What You Carry with You :: What You Leave Behind
by Synonymia
Summary: He got the hint. She practically pummeled that point home. But really, when Rufus Shinra sets his mind to something... can anyone, least of all Tifa Lockheart stop him? A thirty piece, post Advent Children inventory.
1. Smoke Bomb : 30

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**.Smoke Bomb/030**

"Well look over here."

The voice was feminine, lilting and yet coarse. It was the sweater that was beautiful in design and motif, but deadly underneath the fabric's folds. The tigress stalking the photographer as prey. This voice that could speak novels, calm a wearied traveler, and put a cave of marlboro's in check – it was… less than pleased. If anything, the calm, rational fury was more frightening than any scream, yell, or violent outburst. She was displeased and had any individual at the faux oak table been paying attention, they would have heard her footfalls, a cacophony of leatherwork and steel trim. In fact, had Tifa Lockheart been in any other location, she would have been shocked. But she was in her bar, the Seventh Heaven. Her bar. _Hers._

Six individuals sat at the table farthest from her perch as barkeep. Five men, one woman. All but one were wearing finely stitched suits of black – zippered blazers, dress pants, polished shoes, clean and pressed dress shirts. One of these men she could consider a friend. He sat in a direction not facing her, sipping a Nibelheim lager with a jovial expression, bearded with the appearance of a youthful accountant. Yes, a friend. An ally. The other three men as well as the woman, were simply "okay" in her mind. She dealt with them out of necessity. The Wutaiian man, tall and stoic, along with the blonde and perfectly manicured female were individuals Tifa had little understanding of. She didn't go out of her way to get to know them, nor did she wish to. The other two – a somewhat bedraggled and lanky redhead and a bald, emotionally placid man were… all right. She had dealt with them on numerous occasions and while they weren't entirely friends, she couldn't say that she hadn't enjoyed herself with their unintentional slapstick. They came here often. They weren't the problem.

Tifa's eyebrows furrowed. No. _He_ was the problem. The man in white – a mocking white. Purity? Hah! This man was anything but pure. He sat regally, tall and aloof, standing out amongst his crowd of professional bodyguards.

Tifa snorted. _Boy was that stupid._

Had she seen this man two months prior she would have rubbed her eyes and ordered a psych consult on herself. Despite her attempts at being a good person, a noble person, a forgiving person… Tifa had to admit that it was rather _unfortunate_ that rumors of Rufus Shinra's passing at the blast of a certain Diamond Weapon were vastly miscalculated. Not only was the president of Shinra Inc. still alive, but he was in near perfect form, as if nothing had ever happened.

She could feel her hands shake as she made her way to their table, her boots clicking menacingly. While he sat and sipped red wine from a fluted glass, friends of hers had died in just as horrid a fashion as he… hadn't. Crushed, burnt, stabbed, slaughtered gleefully – why was it that this money clad monster could live while those she loved – those noble individuals should perish?

She wouldn't – _couldn't make a scene_. She had far too much composure for such childishness and she _knew_ he would get a rise from it... But she was furious. Just seeing Rufus Shinra made her very blood turn acidic.

That Machiavellian asshole had tried to have her executed on national television…

…had professed his motives to rule the world with fear as his ally.

…he had the gall to live, breathe and laugh. And worst of all, he was flaunting this in her bar. Her sanctuary. Her livelihood.

No, Tifa Lockheart could not stop herself from moving toward the table closest to the door.

* * *

_"Well, look over here."_

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since the truth had been ousted. Rufus Shinra. Alive? Attempting to rebuild? This had been a strange sort of pipe dream up until that moment when Cloud Strife had been summoned to the Healin' Lodge – a location used to treat a strange and now thankfully extinct malady known as Geostigma. Rufus Shinra. Alive. Or at least what was left of Rufus Shinra. Rufus had been one of the first to contract the illness and had used it as yet another reason to stay in hiding. The disease had left him in crippling pain, unable to walk for more than a few steps on his own. After the defeat of the strange silver haired men who had attempted to resurrect Sephiroth and destroy the world, purifying waters had healed him, restoring him to the man of near perfect health he had been in before his infection.

Because of the years of hiding, it came as a huge shock that the president of Shinra Inc. was not only alive, but had fought against the disease that had ravaged the planet – as well as staving off the crazed man known as Kadaj as long as he had. His second in command now, the beareded man known as Reeve who had once been head of Urban Development had been credited for the construction of knew and affordable housing. Of course it made perfect sense. Reeve was a good man. He had defected to Avalanche during the Meteor-Sephiroth incident. If anyone was to use the billions upon billions of gil that Shinra had left over to commission housing and coal mining, it was Reeve.

Funny how things turned out.

For reasons the press had been unable to hound from those close to him, Rufus Shinra was behind it all. Further in the realm of mysterious was his being alive. But Rufus Shinra had an uncanny ability to disappear when he wanted to, just as he was able to dodge a question as if it were a slow-flying paper airplane. And if all else failed, he was an expert liar. Just as he wouldn't admit to the permanent blindness that Diamond Weapon had inflicted on his left eye, he wouldn't say why he was putting so much time, money, and effort into this project. There was a certain degree of dogged determination that was unexplainable, almost as if he were fighting fate.

Some assumed he was trying to clear his name. That he had seen the error of his tyrannical ways and was attempting to right his wrongs. And while this was a plausible argument, there was still one massive gaping hole.

Rufus Shinra was involved and Rufus Shinra hadn't changed much at all. While those around him sat, enjoying their drinks, still celebrating the third fall of Sephiroth and Jenova, Rufus sat coolly, sifting his drink to and fro its fluted glass. He appeared bored with the entire situation, almost as if he'd been dragged there not of his own accord. Further, Rufus had clearly heard the brunette coming his way. He had felt her burning gaze on him from the moment she relieved their original server of her post for the day. And while he had once had a taste of her fighting style, he was not afraid. More than anything, Rufus Shinra was amused by the prospect of dealing with the woman who hit harder than most men he had known.

So when her lilting voice had rung out among the common sounds of the bar scene, he wasn't surprised. He had been waiting for it.

"Miss Lockheart. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He coolly replied with a smirk as he stood up and stood in front of her. Rufus was over a head taller than the young warrior and while he had lost weight due to his former illness, he still managed to make her look diminutive. Something in his aura just screamed power. Even when he had hidden himself under that sheet, locked away in a wheelchair at the Lodge, Rufus had been able to command anyone he wished. Even if they didn't realize it.

"Just lucky, I guess." She responded, attempting to mask the fire of rage burning in her eyes. She could see, beyond the young president that each member of his tabled party – the four Turks and one very nervous executive were staring and sitting quite literally at the edge of their seats.

"Yes. I would say that it is luck that brings us together once more. Unfortunately, it seems as if my time here at your establishment is soon to be up and I must take my leave for the moment."

His voice was clipped, educated, but with a certain degree of dry wit. She hated his voice like no other. And then when she thought she was going to snap like a shaken bottle of warm, highly carbonated soda, something happened that nearly made her choke on the dryness in her mouth.

Tifa Lockheart's glove-clad hand was suddenly grasped in the very warm hold of the blond man before her – her sworn enemy. She watched in numb, passive shock as Rufus Shinra bowed slowly and kissed her hand, grinning as he rose back up and fixed his eyes on her own.

Rufus straightened up his posture, still holding her gaze, unwavering.

And that's when it suddenly snapped, came crashing down and Tifa Lockheart lost control of her rage. Shaking, she reared sideways and backhanded the young president hard across the face, feeling numb satisfaction as Rufus' jaw seemed to unhinge as his head turned with the motion.

"Get. Out."

Rufus Shinra didn't look at her, but he could smell the anger and fire emanating from her slender form. He could hear her breath heaving in her chest and out of the corner of his good eye he could see her usually neat hair now wild; unbridled like her fury. Working his jaw back into place, he snapped his fingers and his four trusty Turks stood and left the Seventh Heaven.

"Reeve. I trust you to take care of the tab. You will of course be compensated." Rufus' voice was the same as always, despite the blow to his face and ego. He then turned and looked at Tifa, coolly. "Until next time, Miss Lockheart, I wish you many good returns."

And with those parting words, Rufus Shinra left Tifa Lockheart with a certain degree of skeptic curiosity and confusion. She had no clue – no clue what that could have been about. And Rufus Shinra knew this. He reveled in it.

It was a game, now. He could have anything in the world if he put his mind to it. If he truly wished for it, it would soon be his. Rufus wanted his company back. Rufus wanted redemption for his actions during both his father's reign and his own during Meteor. He would be the one to turn everything around. _Him._ Rufus Shinra.

But now he had something else he wanted. A grin spread across his face as he stepped into the passenger seat of his company's car.

_"Tifa Lockheart,"_ he thought surreptitiously. _"You will be mine."_

_

* * *

_

**Author's Note:** Twenty nine more of these to go...


	2. Vagyrisk Claw : 29

**What You Carry with You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 Piece Project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**.Vagyrisk Claw/29**

She rubbed her arms briskly, attempting to stave off the cool weather that seeped from the previously unnoticeable holes that peppered the weather stripping of the Seventh Heaven bar. The weather had suddenly turned cool, surprising to Tifa Lockheart as the Midgar area had been experiencing a momentary heat wave during the previous few weeks. But here it was – this strange cooling trend, accompanied by a thin marine layer inching inland, then creeping backward with the rise of the sun, a floating transparent vampire, born of vapors.

A chain of events was now in place. First the morning fog would roll in. Then in due time the rains and finally a brief period of snowstorms would grace the higher elevations. Tifa liked the winter, she had to admit. It reminded her of home, of Nibelheim, that city amidst the mountains. Nibelheim where the trees would be flocked with real snow, bright and pure even in the middle of the day. It had been rebuilt to look exactly as it had before the fires had ravaged it. Before Sephiroth. But Nibelheim was no longer home, and all Tifa had were her memories. She carried Nibelheim in her heart and it seemed to visit her every winter.

Tifa shook her head violently, snapping out of thoughtfulness that usually came with the changing weather, and ran up the creaky stairs of her bar, happy for once that her place of business was in the same building as her home. While it made things awkward on occasion – generally when she had to deal with a suspicious customer or a violent drunk, living in the two story building did have its upsides. She didn't have to travel far to and from work and as an added bonus, she didn't have to trek across the expanding city if she needed a sweater.

Returning downstairs, now clad in a red Mideelan sweater she had picked up on a short weekend getaway with Yuffie for the young ninja's eighteenth birthday, Tifa couldn't help but notice the silence. Always used to the hustle and bustle of Marlene and her orphaned friend Denzel it was strange to be without them. Barret had called just days ago, overjoyed with the prospect of another oil field being found. And since life for Barret Wallace had now become so prosperous, he had a surprise for his daughter, a way to sort of make up for being gone during his fuel-excavations. Gold Saucer. "The happiest place on the Planet." Tifa was none too surprised when Barret invited Denzel, too. He had been close to the younger Wallace since well before the Geostigma incident which had, in turn, only strengthened the bonds of friendship. Wherever one went, the other followed. Tifa had smiled when Barret arrived, leaving with the last two residents of her home. She was glad that they were allowed this one moment to be kids. Barret as well would have time to relax and play catch up.

But now Tifa was alone.

Sure, she knew that Marlene and Denzel would be coming back within a week or two. The oil fields were no place for children and Barret knew that. He had grown up and lived most of his life in the barren wasteland of the Corel mining town. He wanted better for his daughter, so Tifa had agreed long ago to take care of Marlene, no matter what happened or where Barret left to.

Sighing, Tifa grabbed the phone. Whatever loneliness she felt, she still had a job to do. The delivery service, though a small addition to her bar in terms of income, needed checking up on. While it didn't make quite as much money as the Seventh Heaven, the delivery service did bring in some big clients. Shouldering the phone, Tifa punched in the voicemail code only to hear… no new messages. She was used to this. Some days there would be no requests – none at all. Usually she relished the free time, spending it with the children or reading a good book, but today… something was nagging the back of her mind. It was almost as if she could see something out of the corner of her eye that immediately vanished when she turned toward it. Vanished like the near transparent fog that lined her window panes.

Maybe it was the isolation. Maybe it was Cloud's departure weeks earlier, shortly following his defeat of Kadaj. Maybe it really was just the change in seasons. Whatever it was, Tifa had had enough. She would contemplate this later on. For now she had to be strong. Things always turned out for the best. She had witnessed this time and time again and doubt would do _nothing_ to help her situation.

Plastering a smile across her face, as best she could, Tifa made her way behind the mahogany bar and into the pantry. She knew from the night before that some of her stock was running low and the one thing she couldn't stand during her night shift was not having what she needed. Tifa was known so well not only for her position in Avalanche but for her superior bartending skills and she could not, _would_ not make a _Cosmo Cosmopolitan_ without Premium Canyon Vodka. Call her picky, call her neurotic, call her whatever you would, this was why she was such a good bartender. She knew her stuff.

Crouched down, she checked the levels of the bottles, finding that she was low on Tonberry Brand Gongoga style tequila, Schnapps, and Wild Chocobo bourbon. Tsking under her breath she went on to check the assorted beers, noting the lack of Nibelheim lager and Shiva Ice.

"I guess I won't be for lack of work today." She said to herself, pasting the smile back on her face. "_That's the ticket, Tifa-girl_," she thought to herself as she stretched cat-like. If she had something to do, her mind would be taken off of everything bothering her. If she kept smiling, she was bound to start to feel good. And so, list in hand, Tifa made her way to the front door.

* * *

The fog had rolled in that morning, creeping in from the more northern coast, down the continent. First it had hit the remaining portions of Midgar, then swept southbound until it hit the coastal (former) base-city of Junon. There it hung, grey and morose like a cadaver's sheet, cool like death. Unlike most of the other cities, here it would most likely stay. Junon had a habit of picking up the weather's funk and hanging on as long as possible. If the fog rolled it it could stay cool like this for days until the front moved elsewhere and a new one moved in. For now, however, the windows to the houses in Junon appeared slick with sticky mist.

Rufus Shinra snorted as he turned away from his office window. He hated Junon and hated its weather even more. He would have never agreed to stay here if he had the choice but Rufus had been realizing one thing everyday since Meteor : sometimes he didn't have a choice.

Case in point : his _office_. Actually, office was a bit of an overstatement. Since all 60+ floors of his Shinra tower had been reduced to twisted beams of metal, shattered glass, and charred wood-substitute, Rufus – or rather Tseng and Reeve had to come up with a new headquarters to the secretly still thriving company. And so, under the guise of Reeve having "inheriting" the building in the wake of the president's death, at least in the eyes of the public, Rufus had taken to his former residence – a manor on the far outskirts of Junon. Rufus had scoffed when he heard about the ruse. People were so gullible; so incredibly stupid. They never seemed to figure in the fact that he had fired Reeve after he had caught on to his traitorous endeavors. That he would rather give Reno his estate at the time than someone who had backstabbed him.

After learning that Reeve had organized the search and rescue effort, Rufus had conveniently forgotten to mention his thought on the idea.

But he was still smug about the general response. It was just as Rufus had always figured : People would listen when they wanted to listen and believe what they wanted to believe. There, in that wide-stretching compound, where Rufus had spent so many years of his life, he recovered and later contracted Geostigma to the horror of his companions.

But now, sitting in the entertaining room of his mansion, Rufus looked around with a steadily growing detachment. So much had happened. He had been mortally wounded, brought back from being nearly lost forever, then nearly died again. So many months, years, since this mansion felt like _his_. Now Shinra Compound just hearkened back to all that used to be; a giant tombstone to a life he once led. Even now he felt isolated in this house and he hated it. And maybe that's why he decided on this new… _project_ of his. There was only so much of the day that was taken up by Reeve's city plans and paperwork. Rufus was still used to his life as vice president. A life that consisted of countless community functions and gala dinners -- making appearances just to spread his name and business. Oh, he didn't really enjoy theatre, but surely he would make it to every _Loveless_ premiere. Or at least he had under his father's reign.

Rufus had never gotten a chance to discover entirely how he would handle public appearances.

Now that the entire city was in need of repair, there was less in the way of socialization to keep Rufus Shinra busy. Now it was just the job… or sitting by himself and thinking. After all, there was only so much of the Turks he could handle – especially when it came to Reno and Rude, the not-so-dynamic duo themselves. Sometimes he was surprised that they were both still alive after years of service to the company. Meanwhile, Tseng, the one constant source of reason in the group, was usually away on one mission or another. Thus the young president was left to balance budgets, plan strategies concerning what the company was to do, and sit, staring out the window.

He was doing the latter today. The fog, that translucent, marine fog had rolled in that morning, ushering in the changing of the seasons and leaving Rufus with a bitter taste in the back of his throat. It had been foggy, that day years ago when he had last slept here. Back when he was president to a major corporation; when he had slept his first night as president in fact. He remembered the inauguration and the parade that followed. It all seemed like a lifetime ago, that moment when he had taken up the reigns of his company amidst an applauding crowd, crimson banners raised in his honor. The people had followed, blindly, going from one leader to another. Did they even notice the change in regime? Or did they figure it would be more of the same? Was there any way in which he could have overdone his father's legacy?

Rufus scoffed. Of course. He was better than that man. That man who had always put him down and belittled his son who could have easily overshadowed him. And he would have done so in a heartbeat. Rufus Shinra could have done anything he wanted. He grinned smugly. So self assured, knowing what he was about to do. He was going to prove to everyone that no one could shut out Rufus Shinra. Rufus Shinra was someone unpredictable, someone to watch out for. Others had succeeded in saving the world, sure, but _he_ would be the one to rebuild. No one was going to clean up after the mistakes of his father or the mistakes that he himself _never_ made. He would do it. _Rufus_. He would prove himself a responsible individual and get his company back.

And it would be bigger.

And it would be better.

And it would be all because of _him_.

But at the same time, he smirked. There was no reason he couldn't have a little fun while he was at it. Rufus would need to schedule in some time in the coming week to have a drink over at the Seventh Heaven. Tifa Lockheart would be wanting to see him. This he was sure of.

* * *

Tifa Lockheart sighed in tired anguish as she rubbed the small of her back and hoisted the last oversized bottle of green olives into the cupboard. In a few short hours her bar would be opening and everything needed to be in its place. While she wasn't necessarily the most overly organized person she knew, she did take her profession seriously, especially now.

The world didn't need saving any more. This was her life and she had to do it as best she could. So while she was really in the mood for a nap after the hours she spent at the wholesale bulk market, GilMart, she knew she should get the rest of her chores done to ensure a good opening that night.

But first there was the mail.

Tifa made her way back to the alcove where the phone sat silently the entire day and opened the first letter – trash. The second – a credit card bill for which she didn't even _want_ to see the total balance. Finally she got to an envelope that didn't entirely match the uniform standards of its predesessors. It felt almost overstuffed. The paper was of a finer grain and the letterhead…

Her eyes widened to the point where her forehead twinged in pain. Then her eyebrows snapped down in fury as she bared her teeth like a wronged bandersnatch and tore through the seal.

"R.J.Shinra Jr… You've gotta be kidding me…" she grumbled and curse under her breath. It was a folded up glossy… newsletter, the _Shinra Investment Reporter_ to be exact and this confused her even more. She remembered this from years back. The _Reporter_ was a newsletter sent to the shareholders of Shinra stock. But while she _did_ understand what it was, she still didn't understand why this pamphlet sat in her hand, nor did she know what kind of game Rufus was playing this time. She opened it, gingerly, not wanting to touch something so tainted by the hand of a Shinra, the hand that once commanded armies by the snap of his fingers. There was a notice not to worry about the stocks – that they would be worth something in time, to which Tifa rolled her eyes. Rufus would be restarting that company over her cold, dead grave. Then there was a rather large section dedicated to the groundbreaking of a hospital and the building of several small affordable housing areas, sprinkled here and there. Glancing through all of the articles that were so biased for the young executive, it made her feel like she had swallowed a giant, hairy spider. Then she opened the newsletter up to the last page and out fell a certificate paper-clipped to another piece of fine-grain paper. She opened it soundlessly to find the certificate was… a proof of ownership?

"2,000 shares of _Shinra_ stock!" She nearly screamed and dropped the paper. Why the _hell_ would she ever want such a thing? It stood against every moral that was rooted into her being and just touching the paper made her feel dirty. Whatever amount of money that was worth, she could see the people who had died for it and above all else she could see Rufus Shinra's gloating face.

And then, just to anger herself even more, she opened to letter and took a hesitant glance at the text within. The golden Shinra letterhead and imprinted watermark glared back at her almost with the same amount of vehemence.

_Miss Lockheart,_

_I am sure you must be surprised to see this in your mailbox, however I felt that you among most would be interested in what my company has been doing to help the people of Midgar. Perhaps we can come to some agreement in these troubled times, get beyond any differences we've had in the past, and…_

"Ugh!" Tifa couldn't read on any further. With every word written by Rufus she could feel her blood pressure rising. She thought she had been done with him back at the bar but apparently this was not the case. Every word she read was another haughty laugh, another of his signature "better-than-you" style smirks.

Then her eyes caught the closer to the letter and she almost gagged on the spot.

_Rufus Shinra_

_x o x o._

Hugs and kisses.

**Hugs**. And **kisses**.

A shudder caught in Tifa's chest and spread to her backside. She suddenly felt as if she needed a long, scalding hot shower.

* * *

Back at the Shinra Compound, Rufus Shinra poured himself a scotch, sat down at his old baby grand piano and began to play a somewhat jaunty tune. Maybe today was bad for him, but he could at least sleep soundly knowing that he had… _touched_ at least one person in the  
course of the day.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was actually kind of fun to write. It was nerve wracking, but I somehow managed to have a lot of fun naming the alcohol. GilMart is also a throw back to huge warehouse stores like Costco, Sam's Club, and Smart & Final. If you don't have any of those in your area, they are basically GIANT warehouses stocked with bulk items. Where you can get ten gallons of mayonnaise for a decent price.

Damn. This was super long when it was really supposed to be shorter... Hn.

There should be more actual Tifa/Rufus interaction next chapter. She's fuming and he's laughing. Something's going to combust.

2 down. 28 more to go.


	3. Kiss of Death : 28

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**.Kiss of Death/028**

_Drifting, drifting, drifting… _

_**Nowhere.**_

He awoke with a start, eyes bleary and heart racing in a darkness that could only be described as a precursor to the dawn. He had been dreaming again, that was all his mind could fathom from the fuzzy confines of sleep deprivation. Dreaming of that inky darkness, that all too familiar void. It felt like the finality of death. It felt all too familiar.

But Rufus Shinra wasn't dead. The pain… Oh, the pain was enough to ensure the clarity of that notion. A swift reminder of both existence and mortality in one fell swoop. It wasn't so much that the pain was back as it had never really left. It was safe to say that no matter how good a day he'd have, it probably never would leave. Rufus had accepted this two years earlier, accepted the pain as he accepted the partial blindness and later the Geostigma. Accepted, but not given in to it.

If anything, those around him had always known that Rufus Shinra was stubborn, more apt to do things his own way, no matter the difficulty. Perhaps it was his need for control. Perhaps it was his inherent arrogance, a character trait that most everyone knew his name to be synonymous. Whatever the reason, it was clear that Rufus hated to rely on others. Even on the verge of death with a pillar of sheet metal and concrete pinning him to the ground, Rufus Shinra hated to be weak. Hated to feel needy.

Maybe this was part of the reason he actually survived.

Rolling onto his stomach, Rufus stared at oak bedposts and lay tangled in a web of sheets and blankets. He felt trapped by the pain, insect-like, gritting his teeth and waiting for it to subside. Perhaps this was his punishment for everything. Did the universe even work like that? Was it a series of karma points? He cursed softly under his breath, staring forward more intently as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. _Karma points._ The idea made him chuckle. If that was the way the universe operated then there was something intrinsically _wrong_ with its tallying system. His father had gotten off far too easy, a swift sword to his inflated gut and death.

The elder Shinra still seemed to visit him, though. Dared to visit him in the dark of night or in the bleakest of moments, his voice biting and condescending at the same time as he stood, mocking and pristine in a pressed suit. He would sneer from his pedestal, as if to say, "_My name is J. Rufus Shinra Jr. This is my company. _

_And this is my good for nothing son."_

Groaning, Rufus rolled onto his back again and then into a sitting position, immediately wishing he hadn't. Just putting pressure on his left leg seemed to send jolts of pain up the tortured limb to its source. Yes, this was definitely a reminder of what had happened to him two years earlier. The blast had been but the beginning of his nightmare. White hot and scorching, it seemed like the end. But provided one found the proper shelter, ducked at just the right moment, it wasn't impossible to survive, even as shrapnel and glass pelted his backside. It was the falling pieces of his legacy that had nearly killed Rufus Shinra, crushing his body underneath the weight of scrap metal and decrepit dreams. He had hoped to be left standing. Years later, he was lucky to be able to stand at all.

Not that he would speak a word of this to anyone. Nor would he ask for help unless absolutely necessary. And, pulling himself to his feet with a hiss, Rufus knew it wasn't necessary. At least not today. The sun was rising. He would be expected downstairs for paperwork and breakfast shortly and he knew if he didn't come downstairs by a decent hour, someone would be coming up to check on him. Like an invalid or a child. _No…_ He gripped the bedposts, teeth bared with the determination of a hungry nibel wolf. Just one step, then another -- making his way to the bathroom and hating the reflection that stared back in the full sized mirror. Not that any of this was new to the President.

This was his life.

These were his mornings.

But he could have been dead, of course. And when death is the only other option, the former is suddenly cast in a different light.

Staring in the mirror, Rufus looked thinner without his layers of white and black. Likewise, his hair was longer, bedraggled. What had been singed off in the blast had grown back a more ashen color, a gray blond mixing in with the strawberry. He looked less boyish and perhaps a bit more haunted than he had before his near death experience. As if, somewhere in there, he now held some great knowledge. Or perhaps Rufus had finally come to that stunning realization that one day he would die. One day he would return to the planet.

Pain. Mortality. The ever present kiss of death.

His leg still throbbed.

When the Turks had scoured the rubble of Shinra tower they had found Rufus broken and battered, much of his right side torn and smashed. Shattered, pale like a china doll smeared in blood with a laundry list of ailments. The head injuries alone could have killed him. Taking him to Healin,' a secret Shinra medical base, there had been doubts as to how long the president would be alive. When he refused to die after the surgeries, after his heart had stopped and the cold press of electricity had been the one thing to bring him back, there had been doubts as to whether he would wake up. Meeting expectations, the stakes would change again. Would Rufus Shinra ever stand again? Would he ever walk? A broken hip, fractures all along his leg and torn ligaments in his knee. The idea of walking, let alone walking without a cane was beyond doubtful to the doctors. But Rufus Shinra would have none of that.

Part of him so loved to prove people wrong.

Even if part of him knew he was proving himself to none other than the sneering ghost of his father, he wouldn't back down. Rufus was not weak. Nor was he incompetent. And any… _shortcomings_ were his own business. He would not be the source of pity, the talk of old ladies around tea, "_Oh, did you hear about that poor Rufus Shinra?"_

The thought disgusted him as he turned the shower's levers, stepped out of his boxers and into the scalding water without flinching. Water pressure pounding against the back of his head, there was no way that he would hear the ringing of his bedroom phone. Nor would he hear the sound of a voice – an angry scowling voice leaving a less than pleased message on his machine. All Rufus was aware of was the water, burning away the soreness of tense and painfully locked up muscles.

Stepping out of the shower mere moments later, refreshed and less worse for wear than he had been minutes earlier, Rufus toweled himself off briskly, wrapped himself in a plush bathrobe and once again considered the blurred out mess of steam in front of him, the mirror now covered in liquid air. Wiping his reflection with a half smirk, Rufus stared at dripping hair and cerulean eyes.

His pupils were slightly uneven but his gaze was still unwavering.

Turning on his heel, he made his way back to into the bedroom, limping slightly now in the direction of his closet until he noticed the blinking light of a neglected answering machine. It was probably Reeve or Tseng. Responsibility. And while Rufus didn't like to shy away from his duties as president, he halfway considered pretending that he never noticed the flashing 'new message' logo, made a step away.

Then growled and turned back to press the play button, wishing he could have truly ignored it.

And heard a voice that he had all but forgotten that morning.

"_I don't know what sick game you're playing but I'm not buying into it. You wanted me to get angry? Well bravo. I am beyond angry. Next time you will_ feel _my wrath, Shinra. _

_Don't make me turn against my better judgments."_

Then a sigh of frustration.

"_Oh, whatever. I know you're there. You're probably laughing right now. You're not even worth my time, you sick bastard."_

And the sound of her phone hanging up.

Rufus sat on his bed and stared at the answering machine in slight amusement. He had been hoping for a more explosive reaction, had half expected her to come storming toward Junon, battle gloves worn, poised and ready for attack. This kind of response was far too… dull. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing at all. Now he had to resort to plan B. He didn't even have a plan B. _Yet._

But he had to give her credit on one slight point. The corners of his lips curling in a mocking smile as he stood back up, stretched and gave the answering machine one final glance.

"Tifa, Tifa, Tifa… however did you get this number?"

She was a smart one, that Tifa Lockheart. But Rufus Shinra was smarter.

Or at least that's what he liked to think.

* * *

**Authors Note: **I'd like to start out by thanking the reviewers. I usually don't get around to that sort of thing, but I was really insecure about writing this pairing and it means a lot to see that people are enjoying the characterizations and such and such. So thank you. To answer some of the questions I've received, yes, I am doing this for 30Kisses. I've suddenly found myself frightfully addicted to those communities. They give me an added push to write – I've always been a fan of writing prompts. Yes, I am aiming for 30 parts – probably a bit too high an aim, but I'd like to at least go for it. )

This is actual the second version of this chapter. The first wasn't to my liking and didn't feel right in the story. I wanted to break away from banter for a bit and give some background, try to explain both Rufus' mental and physical state after the game as it's a nice little hole in Advent Children that isn't really talked about. I feel like a nerd. I kept thinking about FDR's polio… Next chapter will have Tifa. Lots of Tifa. Maybe a few other characters as well.


	4. Hyper : 27

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind  
**_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_  
**.Hyper/027**

Lips pressed together in thin line, Tifa stared at the metallic finish of her office phone before slamming it upon the cradle. It would be clear to anyone in the nearby proximity that Tifa Lockheart was _fuming._ She had always been the patient one. The _nice_ one. Because when a person knows over twenty ways to kill a grown man with her bare hands, she better have a cap on her temper. Had anyone ever gotten to the martial artist quite like Rufus Shinra?

The answer would probably be a resounding "no."

But this was nothing new. Tifa had to remind herself this over and over again as she slouched down in a small chair and pressed her hands against the cool surface of the desk. Rufus Shinra had been around as long as she could remember. As a youth, he had constantly been in the newspapers, magazines, and televised broadcasts. The press had been very kind to the boy, a fact that Tifa sneered at as she grew older. Even years later, she could recall the bored look he would give cameras during award ceremonies and televised state of the union addresses. It was haughty, as if he looked down on all of the peons that were so interested in this Rufus Shinra, heir to a great and powerful legacy. No matter how much her friends would squeal and wish they could marry him one day she always despised him.

It was almost amusing how some things would never change. Tifa could never envision a moment where she would have any tolerance for the blond. Perhaps if he had changed… but no. It was clear that he was still the bastard that he had been when she first met him, the bastard that laughed as he sentenced her to death. The bastard that showed no emotion as it was announced that his mother, the estranged first lady of Shinra had committed suicide.

Not that she wouldn't have been willing to give Shinra another chance… At least, that's what Tifa thought. She was a fair person and if he seemed to be on his way to redeeming herself, well… then she would tolerate his presence in the universe with a little less grumbling. But when Cloud had been summoned by him, he had been the same… Commanding, lying, and giving as little information as needed. When she had seen him in the bar… the way he was playing with her. It was clear that nothing could change him.

Staring at the envelope, bent at the edges from a sudden burst of anger she could not contain, Tifa sighed and leaned forward, resting her forehead upon her folded hands. _I have to stop dwelling on this… it's just making me needlessly angry,_ she thought as she began tapping her fingers. But no matter which way she looked at it, it all just enfuriated her. Friends died because of him. Far better people. Not only had he survived a fight with Cloud and a blast from Weapon, but Geostigma as well.

Sometimes Tifa didn't understand the will of the Planet at all… Although, this was a strange turn of events that she was sure even Nanaki would goggle at.

The ring of her doorbell propelled Tifa to her feet. "Shoot! Barret!" Tifa had forgotten completely that Barret and the children were returning from their trip to Gold Saucer. Everything that had happened lately had thrown her off, that letter, the phone message she had left Shinra, all of it. But, pushing in her chair and making her way through the halls, she knew she had to make the best of the situation, pretend nothing was bothering her. Not Rufus' harassment or Cloud's absence. None of it.

She stopped in front of the wooden door, staring at the silhouette of the large man whom she had known and been friends with for several years. Barret, although seeming like an uneducated brute to some, was quite intuitive when it came to the inner workings of his friends. She had to be extra careful in hiding her distress. And so Tifa straightened up, threw her shoulders back in an act of confidence and pulled open the heavy, creaking door.

"Tifa!" Marlene shouted gleefully as she shot forward from her father's side and seized the woman in a tight bear hug. Tifa had always been like an older sister – perhaps even a mother to Marlene and while the girl had no problem adapting to new places and getting along with new people, she still ran to Tifa when they met up again. Denzel followed, then Barret, the large man sidestepping Marlene and giving Tifa a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"So how was it?" Tifa asked, smiling as she led them into the bar and shut the door behind them. "I heard they changed a few of the attractions. Renovated the Ghost Hotel?"

"It's all done up real big, Teef." Barret laughed as he poured himself a glass of water from the refrigerator. "You shoulda come with."

Tifa nodded, smile still forced upon her face. "Maybe next time. I've just been so busy with the bar." She turned to the children who now appeared to be digging through their overstuffed backpacks. "So I take it you two had fun? Hope you didn't spend all of your dad's money." Tifa smiled with a wink toward Barret.

"We got souvenirs!" Marlene peeped, ecstatically as she continued digging.

"Oh, really?"

"Marlene spent waaay too much time shopping…" Denzel laughed as he slung the bag back over his shoulder, playfully ignoring Marlene when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"It's only 'cuz I didn't know what to get Cloud."

Tifa felt her heart nearly skip a beat. Then another. _Cloud…_ Letting out a small laugh she forced the smile back even more and attempted to shrug it off. "Yeah… he's a hard person to shop for sometimes."

"Is he here now, Tifa? Has he come back?" Marlene looked up at Tifa with pleading eyes and Tifa was immediately reminded of his absence while infected with Geostigma. Back then she had convinced herself that he was avoiding them because he didn't want them to worry. What could be keeping him away now? Wasn't everything better? Barret's voice shook her out of her momentary lapse into thought as he chased the two children out of the room and into the upstairs portion of the bar.

"Teef… What's eatin' you?" Barret sat down on the barstool closest to his friend and leveled her with a look that could have peeled paint from her the old, worn out walls of her bar. To Tifa, however, it was clearly a look of caring.

She slid next to the older man and ran a hand through her unkempt hair. There was really no use in hiding her true state of emotions from Barret. He would probably just pick up on her lying. "I… I just miss Cloud." She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them a moment. "I just miss him."

Barret stood up in one motion, his teeth clenched in anger. "That spikey-haired bastard still hasn't come back!" Barret and his sudden lapses of bad temper were always something that could amuse Tifa. Always such a loose cannon, it didn't matter if you were his friend, Barret would still be blunt and objective when it came to acting like a fool. Tifa just shook her head sadly, smiling a little at Barret's display. "Naw, Teef. Don't worry. I'm sure he's all right. Y'know he likes to run off. Act a loner. He's probably jus' clearing his head."

Tifa looked up and nodded a little. "I know. I just wish he knew that we would be here for him. Stop disappearing like this. He doesn't answer his phone or even call to say he's alright. It just worries me. That's all."

"He can take—"

"—care of himself. I know." Tifa grinned and stood up, making her way behind the bar and pouring herself a glass of water. "Next time he stops by, I'll give him a talking to." She then winked, feeling slightly like herself. Nothing had been accomplished by their little chat, but she enjoyed Barret visiting like this. Everyone had been so busy as of late. Yuffie had Wutai to take care of, Cid was with Shera, Nanaki in Cosmo Canyon, Vincent was wherever Vincent wanted to be. Barret was, of course, overseeing the fields, looking for oil. Tifa had the bar and the two children. She often felt grounded by the responsibility, but at the same time it was fulfilling. She just wanted to escape every once in a while. To pick up and leave and see the world. Sometimes she partway envied Cloud.

"That everything that's bothering you?" Barret leaned forward, staring Tifa down and she laughed a little. If anything she was glad that, after everything that had happened, she still had Barret.

"Well, there is the case of a certain Rufus Shinra…" She laughed as she pressed the glass to her lips and waited for Barret's colorful string of cursing, damning, and disbelief. If there was anyone who would never be able to forgive Shinra, it was Barret. Tifa would perhaps put up with the group – she had no problem dealing with Reno and Rude, but Barret? He had personal issues with them that stemmed back decades. Tifa rinsed the glass and placed it on the drying rack, then grabbed a worn out rag from the counter and dried her hands. "He isn't really up to anything, per se. Just giving me a hard time. I've made it pretty clear that he's to stop." For added effect she cracked her knuckles and stretched her arms above her head. It was clear that Tifa Lockheart could take care of herself if need be.

Barret laughed, then leveled her with a serious look. "I trust you can take care of yerself, Teef, but if he keeps botherin' you… I wanna hear about it. That way I can go up to Midgar myself and give that son-of-a-bitch a piece of my mind."

Tifa grinned and folded her arms in front of her chest. "Ah, but you won't have to. I'll personally make him stop bothering me if it comes to that." She then raised her head confidently. "But shouldn't you be going? You said you had a get back to the fields today?" Tifa remembered Barret mentioning that he could only keep the kids for five days. Then he had to get back to work. Apparently there was only so much his men could do without him physically there.

Barret immediately looked stricken with shock as he shot forward and ran toward the stairs. "I gotta say bye to Marlene! I'll be right back!" Tifa chuckled quietly to herself as the sound of Barret's boots thumping their way up the stairs faded. Somehow she felt better now. She knew that once night fell and she was alone in bed with a book and her thoughts, she would feel more lonely, but at least for now she felt alright. Speaking with Barret even eased her anger concerning the young president. She felt a little more sure of herself now.

Then the doorbell rang again.

Tifa looked up toward the stairs, then back toward the door again, quizzically. No one had said they would be visiting and it would still be a few hours until the bar opened. This was rather… odd. Standing in front of the door, she again attempted to make out the silhouette on the other side, as she had with Barret, but to no avail. This was clearly a stranger.

"Yes?" She said cautiously as she opened the door and took in the sight before her. A delivery man dressed in courier brown stood before her, holding a long and rather large box.

"Tifa Lockheart?" The man said in a bored tone, clipboard in his other hand. She nodded silently and then immediately had the clipboard thrust upon her. "Sign here."

Finally rid of the rude delivery man, Tifa ripped open the box, tearing the ribbon that held the top to the bottom and then dropped the lid in shock.

Within the confines of the box, perched among the soft folds of tissue paper were a dozen roses. Six were a shocking, deep burgundy color while the other six were a daintier pink. Her eyes narrowed.

"Who would…?" She managed out, vaguely hearing the sound of Barret's boots clomping down the stairs. She found a card within the box as well and read it aloud to herself, under her breath. "Six roses of burgundy for beauty… Six of pink for grace. No amount of roses could ever match the spirit so obviously shining on your face? What!" Tifa supposed that this might seem less… corny had it been from someone she cared for but when it was from someone who signed their name, "You-Know-Who" she found herself less than enthralled. Perhaps it was because she knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, well before she had opened the box that it had been from Rufus Shinra.

Letting out a roar of frustration, Tifa turned to Barret who had been watching in confusion, and asked him as calmly as possible if he could alert the children that she would be attending to some "errands."

Tifa didn't care if the guards in Junon let her in or not. She didn't care how much of a ruckus she had to cause. All Tifa knew was that she was taking her Chocobo and she was going to talk to a certain _You-Know-Who_. This had gone on long enough.

* * *

**Notesy Things:** This one was hell to write. Children are tough to deal with. So is Barret. But it had to be done. After all, I can't ignore them existing.

Cloud is still around. I'm not bastardizing him because I do actually like Cloud. I just don't think Barret would sugar coat his anger at Cloud playing hookie again.

More Rufus next chapter. Obviously... But thanks for reading:D


	5. War Gong : 26

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**  
.War Gong/26**

There were two main roads that led to Junon. One was a dusty path that was perhaps never truly an official 'road' but rather one that had been worn away over the decades by those traveling either by foot or chocobo. It wasn't fancy or even all that helpful if not for being a good guide in the right direction, but it was a path and one that was taken often. The other was newer and spanned a greater distance, from Edge to Junon, even reaching Kalm and the old Midgar ruins. It was cleaner and far better equipped to handle the quickening barrage of cars and other newer vehicles that were being developed in mass quantities. One dirt, the other concrete. Despite these differences, the roads ran side by side in a strange sort of brotherhood -- one hearkening back to the poor infrastructure of Shinra's domination, the other a supposed testament to the unifying powers of the WRO.

Had Tifa Lockheart been in any logical state of mind, she would have perhaps thought about this fact as she spurred her black chocobo onward toward the continent's cape where the former Shinra base was located. She would have found it amusing how well things were going with Shinra's loss of power. She would have reveled in the fact that things had become a bit more peaceful and that once WRO started their major highway project, cities were connected better and communications had improved. But all she could think of was that package of roses and the way the bile had rose in the back of her throat.

Someone needed to put Rufus Shinra in his place. And as she saw the glint of buildings rising over the hill in front of her, she knew that it should be _her._ Tifa had tried being a decent human being. She had tried ignoring him. She had tried threatening him but it seemed to all be for naught. He wasn't going to back down. All that was left was to meet him head on and give him a piece of her mind.

A piece of her boot would probably suffice as well.

She gritted her teeth and pushed on while Altair warked quietly, her feathers bristling slightly in the cool kiss of a northbound wind. If the bird caught on to Tifa's state of being -- her _rageful_ state of being, clearly it did not care. It moved forward, one talon laden foot after another climbing harsh terrain and mountainside with a grace common to its breed. Black, as well as gold chocobos were well known for their sure-footedness and Tifa had grown somewhat attached to this particular bird during Avalanche's quest to find and stop Sephiroth. Altair was perhaps one of the best behaved of the flock, calm and laid back but swift enough to race in the S class.

She also had the stamina to make it to Junon from Edge without needing to stop and rest. And when it came down to results, this was pivotal as Tifa wanted to get to Junon and back in as little time as possible. She trusted Marlene and Denzel back at the bar. That _wasn't_ the problem. She just didn't want to give up any more time to Rufus Shinra. As it was he had been haunting her thoughts in the recent days. A quick "shove it," maybe a conversation with the Turks, or Reeve if he was around, and she would be on her way. She wanted to at least make it back before nightfall.

As the pair trudged through tall grasses over the final hill, anticipation and adrenaline spiked. The time was fast at hand. Tifa Lockheart was not going to be made a fool of for much longer. She could see the rusted cannon, the silhouette of tall structures in the sunlight. She wasn't altogether sure which building was the Shinra Estate, but it certainly couldn't be all that difficult to find. The Shinra family had never been subdued when it game to extravagance. And as she entered Junon proper and gazed upon the high, well guarded gates, she knew she had found her mark.

Somehow she figured she would have little trouble getting in to meet with Shinra. _Especially_ when she saw a familiar figure making his way toward the front entrance.

* * *

Bluntly put, the room was a _mess._

But not a single person was about to admit that truth.

The relatively spacious home office was overrun with mountains of paperwork and files, including everything from blueprints to status reports. One would perhaps even say that the stacks were _cluttered_ if not for the seemingly graceful way in which they were stacked amongst pristine cherry-wood furniture, stacked because there was simply no place else for them to go. After all, the ghost of the Shinra tower still stood in what remained of Midgar, looming over deserted dreams and the homeless who still clung to that small piece of broken land. It was a reminder of that which had passed. A symbol of sorts, but no longer a real city. This left Rufus Shinra with few options of what venue from which to work.

Working from his family's old mansion, however, was much more desirable than working at Healing. That much was certain.

Leaning back in his seat, pen twirling in hand, the president considered the forms in front of him. He could feel exhaustion slowly closing in, the slight, persistent nagging of a headache's beginning somewhere behind his eyes. Paperwork. Piles of it had been processed over the course of the day and there was still more; a never ending flood of words and lines needing his signature. Lately there had been reports concerning Corel's oil fields, a name cropping up every once in a while that made the corners of his lips smirk in recollection. He could remember once upon a time a large bear of a man who was to be executed. But that was ages ago and now here he sat, halfway crippled body in a halfway crippled company, dealing with Barret Wallace on a professional level. It was laughable, and yet Rufus Shinra didn't see altogether _that_ much humor in the situation. It was mostly just irony. The world needed help. They needed power. Electricity. And this was just another means by which to get it.

It helped greatly that Tuesti was there to deal with Wallace in case things went sour, but Rufus knew that he _had_ to deal with the man. In the very least he had to _pretend_ that he didn't see him as some sort of lesser life form. As much as it pained him, this had become his mission, after all. The purpose of him rebuilding the company. Now, more than ever, Rufus had something to prove to the world.

There was more to _this_ President Shinra then what they were led to believe.

The ringing of his phone -- a newer model PHS, brought Rufus back to the confines of reality, before he had even realized he was staring at golds and oranges that filtered in through the window, telltale signs of sunset. With a sigh and a flick of the wrist, the phone was popped open and he was leaning against the worn leather of his swivel chair once more. "Yes."

"Tseng here." The man cleared his throat a little, obviously hiding some emotion that Rufus was unable to read. "There is a visitor waiting in the foyer. She wishes to meet with you and discuss some... matters."

Rufus slouched further into the chair, running his fingers through his bangs in slight annoyance. He couldn't recall anyone scheduling in a meeting and he wasn't in the mood for sudden, unannounced visitors. At the same time, however, Tseng had always been trustworthy and never one to idly waste his time. This would have to be an important matter for him to let someone in. _Somewhat_ important at least. He sighed. "What kind of matters could they possibly be?"

The man chuckled softly under his breath, an action that was barely noticeable and a little unsettling. "I suppose you will see when you arrive, sir. Or should I turn her away?" But Rufus was already pulling himself to his feet, slipping the signature white coat over his shoulders and slowly making his way across the room. Muscles and bones ached slightly from the exertion of sudden movement after hours spent motionless, but he shook it off and turned the brass doorknob.

In retrospect, Rufus should have had some idea who the individual was who decided to pay him a visit. His actions would most likely be seen as nothing less than harassing. And, despite how amusing it was attempting to woo someone who nothing short of hated him, Rufus wasn't about to sugar coat his actions. He could get _anything_ he wanted if he worked hard enough for it and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to prove to himself that even someone as slippery and rightfully resentful as Tifa Lockheart could be had at _some_ price.

She could also probably help his image out.

It was obvious to anyone in the near proximity that this little game of his was in no way innocent. And, if one really thought about the situation the corporate mogul was taking, they would also perhaps remember exactly _who_ Tifa Lockheart was, and what she was skilled at. And perhaps that was Rufus Shinra's first error : Forgetting for a second who it was he was dealing with.

When he spied Tifa Lockheart on a plush chair, smiling lightly as she made small talk with Tseng, he slowed his pace, leaning briefly against the wall to watch her movements through the doorway. She seemed slightly more at ease than the last time he had seen her at the bar, dark hair hanging over a shoulder and a pleasant smile lightly upon her lips. At the same time, the tenseness in her shoulders was also noticeable, particularly as Tseng stepped aside, answering a call on his cell phone. Lockheart leaned back slightly, palm pressed upon white leather, waiting.

It was but a few seconds later when Rufus Shinra pushed off of the wall and made his second mistake.

As quietly as he had come down the stairs, he breezed through the doorway and behind the woman, amusement growing as she seemed to not notice his presence. He reached forward, swiftly yet silently, a cool hand upon a warm, bare shoulder.

"Miss Lockheart."

His grin threatened to turn grimace. It only took a split second for her to react from that cold touch. The woman had whipped around and grabbed his wrist in a vice-grip, thumb pressed against veins, squeezing as if to disarm. Rufus worked his best not to react to the pain of her grip, the dangerous look present in her mahogany eyes. He breathed in, then out slowly through his nose, quirking a grin as best as possible.

"Mister Shinra." A smile spread across her face but it was clear that there was no friendliness upon her features. She squeezed his wrist for added effect and then let go forcefully.

"Please. Call me Rufus." He paused, then shook his hand lightly and continued. "Now, is this any way to say thank you? Roses are so hard to come by in this area."

"I know full well what you are up to and you can stop this little game, Shinra." She ground out his last name, jaws clenched in a threatening rage that matched the state of her knuckles.

"I don't play games." His gaze was serious, boring into her own with as little emotion as possible and it occurred to Tifa that there was little feeling behind the smirk on his face. "When I want something, I go for it." He flicked back a pesky lock of blond and leveled a look of boyish playfulness at the woman. "I am just... being true to myself. You, on the other hand... you only _think_ that you despise me."

And that was, perhaps, his third mistake of the night.

In a flash of movement, she was on him. On him, but not in the way Rufus Shinra would have preferred. Hands bunched and wound around the front of his button down shirt, Tifa Lockheart launched herself forward slamming the president into the wall with a thud that almost seemed to make the walls _shake_. Rufus couldn't help but let out a small grunt as his head followed suit, likewise striking the wall hard enough to daze him, legs scrambling painfully to gain footing.

"Do _not_ presume to know what I am thinking, Shinra," a voice growled out with scorching malice as the small woman ground him further up against the wall, only to stop abruptly, her white knuckled grip letting go and leaving the executive propped up against the wall.

* * *

Tifa wasn't entirely sure what had come over her when Rufus Shinra had said those words. In retrospect, she wouldn't find them to be entirely that incendiary. Perhaps it was the ego altogether so present behind them, driving the words forward as if to challenge. Tifa Lockheart had always striven to be true to herself. The thought of Rufus Shinra claiming as such almost undermined her own way of life. The man was a liar. He was selfish. And above all else, in her eyes he was _beyond_ the realm of the despised.

And so she had snapped then and there. While she had jokingly thought to herself that there were plenty of ways to drive home her point, physically and verbally, she hadn't for a moment considered the idea that she would drive _him_ into the wall as such. And yet there she was, fuming and spitting acid, feeling all the while like some sort of hypocrite. So much for taking the high road. Before she had even gotten the chance to back down herself, however, she had felt something cold and metallic against her neck. It was a familiar feeling -- a feeling that made her body stiffen. The barrel of a gun, the cocking hammer.

_Tseng._

"Tifa Lockheart, please stand down or I will be forced to take drastic measures."

The voice was smooth and calm, a voice that all to well matched its owner. Tifa had forgotten the Turk was there once his phone had rung and he had wandered away. By the time Shinra had appeared, he was completely out of her thoughts. Tseng had sworn loyalty to the company, to the man in front of her and Tifa had little doubt when he said that he would use force to protect the president.

Stepping back, booted foot altogether too loud against the elegant hardwood floor and the backdrop of silence, she looked to the tall Wutaian man before her, nodding slightly as he holstered his gun again, making a move to help the president, but stopping when the man shook his head and pulled himself gingerly to his feet himself.

"Hey..." the man ground out, still pressed against the wall and leaning heavily on his right let. "You know..."

Tifa straightened her stance, folding her arms in front of her chest and staring him down. "What?"

"I have a proposition for you."

With a roll of her eyes, she turned in one deft motion toward the door. "You know my answer to whatever you--"

"Unacceptable. You haven't even heard the stipulations yet." He moved to follow her slowly, something unreadable glinting in his eyes. He then stopped and uttered two words : "One day."

She sighed and turned slightly, glaring from the corner of her eye. "What do you mean, _one day_? ...This game is tiring. I have to go home and you have wasted _enough_--"

"Spend one day with me. We can do... whatever, but I will show you the time of your life."

A small laugh trickled through the air, sardonic and frightening coming from the small yet deadly woman. It punctuating her words. "And if you are... unable to... perform to these expectations?"

"Then I promise on the good will of my company that I will leave you alone from now on." He paused, seemingly waiting for her response, but then cutting her off again, "However, I do not want an answer now. Three days. You will say yes."

With a sigh, Tifa Lockheart pulled her coat from its spot by the door. "I already have my answer and it isn't going to change between now and then. Good evening to you, Tseng." With a nod she was out the door.

Silence spread out upon the room, both men staring at the place through which Tifa Lockheart had exited. After a few seconds, the moment passed and Rufus rubbed the back of his head ambling forward to a nearby chair, limp now more pronounced with the woman's departure. He plopped down unceremoniously and let out a small, gruff sigh.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, sir, but that didn't quite go so well." Tseng quirked a small grin toward the young president before taking the seat across from him and leaning back languidly.

"She's going to say yes." He shot him a look of extreme conviction.

"I haven't the slightest clue how anyone would think otherwise. You have always had _such_ a way with women..."

"I am not one to be denied."

"I promise you, sir. I shall wait on the edge of my seat."

* * *

Somehow, return trips always seemed to go by faster than their counterparts. At least that was the way it seemed to Tifa. Over mountains and past forests and meadows with the glow of a rising moon, this trip weighed down on her with far less force. She doubted that anything had _really_ been accomplished, but she hoped that Rufus Shinra would think twice before bothering her again. As she passed the sign that welcomed her to Edge a sigh of relief escaped parted lips. Altair pushed forward, tired but also happy to be in familiar territory. As soon as they had reached the Seventh Heaven, the bird would be let go, allowing it to return to the Farm that was but a few minutes away by foot.

Despite everything that had happened, Tifa was home. It dawned on her that she might even have time to open the bar that night. She could see the top of her home's roof over the distance. The porch and stairs. The sign.

And then she saw something that nearly threw her off Altair's back. Something she hadn't seen in _weeks._

Sure, there were plenty of motorcycles in Edge. Some perhaps of the same make and model. But as she jumped from the chocobo and patted its feathers in farewell, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who this particular vehicle belonged to. And as she approached the motorcycle, bending forward and touching metal and plastic to her fingertips she couldn't help but smile, warm and genuine as the name escaped into a growing twilight and she looked up to see an all-familiar silhouette looking out at her from the porch.

"Cloud..."

* * *

**Notes**: Somehow this chapter was a bit painful. Originally it was split into two -- the next chapter would deal with the internal thoughts of both parties but all that really mattered was the end, seen in the end here. Frankly, I'd rather keep from having filler chapters so I cut and cut end ended up with this chapter being longer than the rest. Ohh, well. Not much else to say.  



	6. Ether : 25

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**.Ether/025**

"Cloud."

It was a statement and not a question, although there was a great deal of uncertainty coursing through her being. Tifa Lockheart stepped forward, shoes crunching on loose gravel, slow and careful. Hesitation grew with each passing step and she was halfway afraid to look away from the man on her wooden deck, afraid that he would vanish from sight. Afraid that she was seeing things in the moonlit night. Everytime he left -- for a mission or a long delivery, she always felt herself missing him the same; wondering when he would happen to return. Perhaps she should have gotten used to him being away. Gotten used to him not always picking up the phone when she or Yuffie or Barret called.

At least he was getting better with that thing.

Tifa climbed the wooden steps of her bar, planks creaking ever so slightly. She wasn't entirely sure how she was going to greet him. She never _was_ sure. The last time he had disappeared he had returned to find her unconscious on the floor of Aeris' church. So much had changed during the course of the past month. So much had changed between _them_, within the makeshift family they had suddenly come into possession of. She could tell the changes existed from the way he answered his phone when he did; the way he took off work to picnic with Marlene and Denzel after the latest threat had blown over.

And then there was the way the corners of his lips seemed to curl in a slight smile, barely visible.

She placed a hand on her hip, cocking her head to the side as if considering the man before her. "You've returned. In one piece, I see." Shifting her weight on one foot, Tifa looked him over, good-natured. Always a little awkward, this was how they greeted each other. Physical contact wasn't something they shared too often. She herself wasn't altogether against the occasional hug but Cloud wasn't one for public displays of affection of _any_ sort. He had always been a bit of an introvert. Withdrawn. Not one for flashiness or speeches, yet still a leader through and through.

"I said I would return." The words were punctuated by a slight nod. To most outsiders he would seem to have no real visible emotions but since he had returned to her bar years earlier to help Avalanche, she had grown more and more talented in the art of reading Cloud Strife and the subtle nuances of expression he displayed time and again. And at that moment he seemed conflicted. Trapped somewhere between remorse at being away for so long and shrugging off the fact if it were nothing serious. Tifa forced back a sigh, clearing space slowly to lean back against her bar's wooden balcony. The air was cool and crisp that night and while she knew that they would eventually retire to the bar's interior, she wanted to relish the weather and the stars overhead while she still could.

"How's work with the WRO? I saw Reeve last week, but..." She considered the words a moment, _I chased Rufus Shinra out and he followed suit. Oh by the way, have you heard that everyone's favorite megalomaniac seems to be fixated on me?_ didn't seem like the best way to finish the sentiment. She smiled a little, clearing her throat. "The bar was busy and we didn't get a chance to talk." It wasn't entirely a lie. By any means.

"Work is good. I think Reeve wants me to stick around. Thinks I'm good for business." His boots clunked forward on aged wooden planks as he took his place beside her, hands on thebanister.

"Well, I can't imagine why _not._ You get the job done and people look up to you. Don't tell me you're underestimating yourself again. Just a lonesome errand boy? Cloud..." She gave him a curious look, obviously wanting him to say otherwise.

He shook his head, a little smile peeking over the folds of his upturned collar. Tifa, always worrying about him, suddenly becoming a mother hen when there was no need be. "No. I'm just... coming to terms. And I know I'm not alone. Even if no one is around me, I'm not alone." He met her gaze a moment, held it, and then looked down upon the expanse of Edge, sleepily laying beyond the little bar.

Tifa could feel something wavering in the pit of her stomach at those words. She understood well. Coming to terms -- getting to know himself better. She could recall when he returned to her bar after the bombing mission, meeting with her again for the first time in years. Recalled the painful grip of unease in her gut when he recounted tales of which had never happened -- at least never happened to _him._ Now the lies were gone, leaving only Cloud Strife, with all of his quirks and idiosyncrasies. Cloud had a lot to come to terms with. A lot to get used to after so long living in the collective shadow of everyone else. Of the great General, his best friend, fellow children growing up.

And even the shadow of the one girl he seemed most to want the attention and affection of.

She knew he would eventually break free of the shell he had formed around himself. She could tell from the way he had responded -- _Never alone._ Cloud had changed and that battle with Sephiroth had something to do with it. She had a feeling there was more to it. Perhaps a personal epiphany of sorts.

This was all well and good, but Tifa was still stuck between being relieved in the slow changes in her friend -- the way he was opening up more and more, and being frustrated at his still constant disappearing acts. And then there was the nagging confusion -- her feelings for Cloud and how deep they truly ran.

She breathed out, smoothing wayward strands of dark hair as she looked up toward the sky. "It's almost as clear out here as back home."

He looked up as well, silently staring into twinkling twilight. "Less pollution without the reactors."

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she turned around, leaning against the wooden banister in the same fashion as Cloud, wondering briefly if her chocobo had met with her flock, yet. If Altair had found a sense of belonging with her peers. She sighed. "Sometimes Edge almost feels like home." And it was the truth. _Almost._ Sometimes Tifa wondered if any place would feel the same as Nibelheim.

Her old bar had almost felt like home. She had gotten used to it. Grown complacent. And then with a flick of a switch it was gone. An entire Sector gone; kissed goodbye forever. Home no more.

"The kids missed you. Denzel and Marlene. They ask for you."

Cloud quirked a look her way and she could see the guilt. Still, she pressed on. "I missed you."

"Tifa." He shook his head again and reached for her arm, holding her just below her shoulder in reassurance. The physical contact shocked the brunette, but Cloud had been full of surprises since the Geostigma had come and gone. "It's not..."

She sighed again, weeks worth of pent up worrying and frustration slowly eking out. "I thought things were getting better -- we would all get closer. I thought we had a second chance to be a family. Maybe a third. I've lost count. But I don't know... And sure you're answering your phone more often but you still disappear and I really wish--"

She was cut off when he gently squeezed her upper arm and looked her square in the eyes, Mako gaze held firmly. "I'm sorry, Tifa."

Something in his actions, in the slight tinge of sadness in his voice shook her and she wasn't entirely sure if she could breathe. Nor was she sure if she could look away from him, for fear that the moment would be lost.

"I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."

And then she _knew_ she couldn't breathe and yet somehow managed to blink and turn toward the moonlit homes andalleyways . Suddenly it was a lot colder than she had realized and she was left wondering where this conversation was headed, what was going to be said next and whether or not Cloud was going to hop back on his bike and leave again for another delivery. Leave her with the children and the ringing phones. The bar and those strange encounters with the President of Shinra. Why was it that everyone thought they knew so well what she wanted? Tifa Lockheart was _not_ thattransparent...

Even if Cloud was very much in the right to make such an assumption. And perhaps that was what stung the most. He was right. He had figured it out and this conversation would be over. He would shut himself out again and go off on his own for the next few weeks.

But he surprised her again.

"I can't. At least not now. ...But you're wrong. I do consider you my family." He paused a beat. "You and Marlene and Denzel. Even when I'm away... I'll always return."

She turned to look at him again, the words ringing in her ears and her hair whipping into her face. She knew he was speaking the truth, speaking from deep down where he usually hid things away, and she could tell how hard it was for him to get those words out to her. With a nod, she turned bodily toward him, forcing a brave smile on her face.

_"I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."_

Those words held so many meanings, but she would have to think of that later. Tifa had expected no different from Cloud. That was why she didn't force anything between them, even though she wanted a closer connection. It would take a lot more work -- and thought Tifa wanted nothing more than to help him along, she knew that the inner workings of Cloud Strife would be better left to Cloud Strife. She would just have to be supportive of him. That was all she knew how to do at that moment.

"Will you be staying the night? Since you're home and all... We have some catching up to do."

Cloud appeared thoughtful, as if mulling over some great question he had in mind. "Pancakes for breakfast?"

She couldn't help a grin from spreading on her features at his small request and nodded in affirmation.

"Absolutely."

* * *

**Note**: And there is Cloud. I've had this image in my head for months. It just... took a while to get Cloud down. He's a complicated little puppy. Rufus shall return in the next chapter. He is, after all, biding his time... 


	7. Mirror : 24

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**  
.Mirror/024**

Slouched back in his chair, Rufus Shinra contemplated the cracks in his office ceiling -- compliments of time and perhaps some foundation shaking thumps from WEAPON's visit all those years back. Whatever the reason, he couldn't entirely recall seeing them there before, but... it mattered little. He was feeling tired and altogether mentally drained. It had been another one of those days. One of those days when he woke up and felt as if he had slept two hours rather than seven, with puffy eyes and a crick in his neck. One of those nights when not even expensive sheets and a specially made mattress helped him sleep _well_ -- for Rufus _did_ sleep, no questioning that. Rather one would say it was the quality of sleep that bothered him.

Actually, Rufus would much rather refer to it as a pain in the ass than bother quantifying and compartmentalizing things. As long as he was lucid enough to get work done... that was all that mattered. And at least that night of sleep had been dreamless.

He could recall a time when personal comfort meant the world to him -- plush offices and spacious rooms. Decadent social gatherings. Toasts to the company and executives getting sloshed, threatening to grope and kiss under holiday mistletoe and often acting on that warning. When to get woken before ten would mean Certain Doom and his mornings revolved around personal chefs and chauffeurs and a suit fresh from the launderer. Little did he know, years earlier with power newly thrust into his waiting grasp, that things would be changing. And by changing one could easily substitute "turning upside down."

...Still, his "office" was rather plush. Cramped but plush. And on more than one occasion, he and his Turks did get drunk and toast the remains of his company. But gone were the chauffeurs. And most personal _anythings_ were also gone. Suits were rarely pressed and meals were rarely of the multi-course variety.

Although Tseng was rather handy in the kitchen when culinary inspiration struck. Rude as well, even more surprisingly.

It would all seem a bit more depressing if he wasn't glad to be alive, a fact that was still fresh in his mind. Though the Geostigma was gone... he would never forget it. Disturbances in sleep and distant achy memories would make sure of _that._ The heat of WEAPON's blast was also a constant weighted presence in the back of his mind, shiftless and burning. The notion of having cheated death multiple times in ones short and very mortal life.

Rufus shook his head and leaned back, sinking further into the leather cushions like a child unused to plush leather seating. He was tired, perhaps too tired to fully be able to squelch thoughts that should just _go away._ He considered anchoring both feet onto his desk surface but thought better of it. He would look unprofessional and the paperwork was still there. Uncaring. Waiting.

It seemed such a shame to get out of that position. Especially after the day he had had. Because funds had to be allocated and he had to speak with Dio concerning how money was being spent. Had to discuss certain add-ons to the park -- security and safety features that were perhaps older than Rufus himself. Not to mention the latest quarter's earnings. While Gold Saucer was invaluable to Shinra Inc, it was still more than a pain to deal with the business of running a giant theme park. Even from the shadows. And Dio was a flamboyant man. Excitable.

Annoying to all _end._

Still the meeting had gone well. It just managed to tear away a good chunk of time that Rufus should have been doing other things. Like attending to a giant pile of paper that seemed to be growing constantly. Multiplying, it was never ending chain of proposal after proposal. It was almost hypnotic and foreboding and supernatural in a way. Excessive.

He leaned forward with a world weary sigh, pen heavy in his hands as he flipped through a report Reno had sent while checking in with Wallace's oil fields. This was going to take a while to go through. Not that Reno didn't take his job seriously as he _did_. In his Reno sort of way. None of this was simple. The oil fields were well and good but they had to look into _other_ sources of energy. Or at least Wallace needed to have a brighter outlook on finding _more_ of these oil fields because otherwise...

Rufus rubbed his eyes and grabbed a pen. It somehow felt far later than mid-afternoon, but perhaps it was the slow change season. Cool winds blowing in as fall matured into the shrill death-like atmosphere of winter.

But he would consider all of that later. For now he had that report, pages to flip through and mark with inky smudges. The pen flecking notations in barely understandable handwriting, filling margins here and there absently as his eyes quickly followed lines and his mind began to drift and wander.

He wondered briefly what Lockheart was up to.

Curiosity.

Tseng had noticed. He had noticed but didn't bother to say much. For if a bored Turk could be seen as dangerous -- as was evident whenever Reno had some insane scheme on how to spend his vacation time, what could one say about their _leader_ having a bit too much free time. If one could even call it that. It wasn't so much that he was bored, per se, but rather that Rufus didn't have much else other than work. He didn't _have_ free time.

He didn't have any real outlets to work out frustration and mental stagnation either. The shooting range and paperwork. Good, but not enough. Still, Tseng clearly had his qualms, qualms that he had little issue bringing up over coffee hours earlier. An impromptu break from work, post-Dio. Because of all the Turks, of all that was left in his life from the life before, Tseng knew Rufus best, stepping in and not _entirely_ forcing him out of the office. Except that he sort of had.

Rufus stopped in mid pen-stroke, staring blankly down at the sheet of paper before laying the pen on its surface and cracking his neck with a loud, horrific pop. Thinking.

_"I am more than a little curious what exactly you are planning, here," Tseng had commented vaguely, smiling lightly behind a coffee cup._

"Pardon?"

Tseng gave the younger man a knowing look. Rufus wasn't stupid. This was small talk. And the light of curiosity glinting within the Turk's eyes had been there since Tifa Lockheart had left the Shinra foyer that one afternoon. Since he had heard the stunning, three day ultimatum that was soon to be up.

"I suppose one could call it... a personal bet. Or perhaps a social experiment." Rufus tented his fingers around the sides of the coffee cup, inhaling the rising aroma before his lips curled smugly in delight. Or whatever emotion he was currently feeling. "She is, after all, a bit of an enigma."

"You wish to see how far you can lead her? Dare I say this is one of your more... insane_ ideas. Sir."_

"You make me sound evil_, Tseng. I am merely... interested. How do you gain the trust of a woman such as Tifa Lockheart. How does one become close and personal with someone who is disinterested in gifts? Who cannot be really be bought? She is a puzzle I cannot figure out at this moment. But everyone has their price. Somewhere along the line there is always a way of getting through."_

Tseng had smirked and stood up from his seat, glancing at his wristwatch. "I don't think Lockheart would take kindly to being your personal Rubik's Cube."

"I suppose not." Rufus hadn't moved, instead idly staring into the coffee mug. He had almost appeared deep in thought. As if rethinking his plans. And then he shrugged. "I shall have to cross that bridge when I get to it."

"If you get to it." The words were not a question or even challenge, but a statement. Tseng's back was turned.

Rufus stood up. "When._ I get to it." His smirk was almost dangerous and held something all-knowing about it. Tseng had turned around then, staring at the blond and nodded slightly._

"When you get to it."

Rufus blinked tiredly, staring down at the paperwork, words run together in tired, squiggly blurs. He would be revisiting the Seventh Heaven the next day. Or rather the next night, once the crowd had diminished. Revisiting and awaiting her positive response. And she _would_ say yes, of that Rufus was certain. Because while her will was strong and her disposition was stubborn, he knew that she would _also_ want to prove him wrong. She would want to prove that he was detestable and entirely self-centered. That things had changed little and he was still the man who had shut her into a gas chamber in order to quell the masses. That she was a better human being. That Shinra was still the same money hungry corporation, looking out for only itself. She had a lot at stake. A lot of core beliefs that probably stemmed far, far back, rode on this.

He wondered just how deep her hatred for him and his company, ran. But at the same time, Rufus knew that this wasn't entirely a matter of hate. This was a matter of pride. That was what was driving her. Tifa Lockheart who had helped save all of Gaia on more than one occasion would want nothing more than to shoot down Rufus Shinra. To reject him.

And to do that in the most dramatic fashion, she would have to say yes. And _then_ deny him.

Rufus leaned back in his seat, paperwork momentarily forgotten again. People were so predictable. So easily manipulated. And, though she was difficult to figure out, Tifa Lockheart was no different, of this he was certain. Things would just take... longer to work out to his liking. They would take more effort. But when he wanted something, he _got_ it, no matter how hard it was to attain. This was no different.

Perseverance and time. And while Rufus wasn't exactly the most patient man, he did enjoy the chase. Even if, in the back of his mind, he knew that this little rabbit knew at least ten different ways to use swift, brute force to take down a fox.

He would just have to watch out for her uppercut.

* * *

**Note**: This took a bit of time to write. Too many distractions. Expect the next two chapters to come quicker. They shouldn't be epic-ly long, but are very much needed for the story's progression. 


	8. Potion : 23

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**.Potion/023**

Tifa pushed away from the oft used banister she had been leaning against with a sigh. The sun was setting and soon enough patrons would be appearing at her bar's doorstep. As such she had to compose herself. Had to look every part the strong and respectable bartender. Even when her heart wasn't in it.

Especially when her heart wasn't in it.

But now wasn't the time to be wondering or worrying or dwelling on might-have-beens. Tifa Lockheart was smarter than that. She was _stronger_ than that, Cloud or no Cloud. And though part of her felt a deep and intense longing for that closeness the thought she had felt back when they were fighting together. Back when their lives depended on one another's actions – this was her life now.

She stepped back, resting against the wooden planks, half sitting. Gazed at this bar, her building. Her _home._ The world was safer now. The world was a better place. Sure there were hiccups here and there and sometimes things were a bit more trying, but those she knew now and future generations were safe. Were happy. She had been a part of something grand. She had helped ensure the survival of an entire world. Regular townsfolk had rejoiced when that giant glowing rock had ceased to be. Had cheered and called Tifa and her friends 'heroes.'

But she didn't feel very heroic. Not at that moment, anyway.

She didn't feel very heroic at all.

Perhaps this was what all the world's "great heroes" felt like when their quests finally ended. She pondered this a moment, brushing back a few strands of hair before placing a palm on the banister and staring at the sword emblazoned pattern of her bar's logo. Perhaps they returned to homes and families and it just wasn't the _same_. They got restless. They reminisced about days that weren't at _all_ good ole; looked longingly at near death experiences and horrific, cackling villains. Did Yuffie feel this way returning to Wutai? Was Cid looking longingly at space and remembering how the stars glimmered when he was weightless and among them? What of Barret, working in the oil fields? Did Cloud –

She shook her head.

Oh, most certainly Cloud would have felt the same. Maybe not _longing_ for a repeat of the past events but that feeling of restlessness. Of getting up and leaving for parts unknown. He had to relate in some ways. Minor ways even. But Tifa knew that even that point wouldn't bring him home. Cloud dealt with things in his own fashion and at his own speed. And this _worked_ for him.

Even if it didn't work for her.

She sighed and stretched her arms high above her head. Maybe given time, things would feel more real. More like they had before she had become a part of Avalanche. In that haze of time in between nearly dying at Nibelheim and meeting Barret Wallace. Maybe she would fall into routine and make friends – live her life the way most people did. Wasn't that what they had fought for? The opportunity for everyone to lead happy and normal lives.

Everyone. _Including_ herself.

She stepped forward, attempting to look determined. As if nothing could take her down – especially not herself and constant nagging worries and a strange longing in her heart for that which never really happened. For a relationship only existent in her deepest, most closely guarded secrets.

And nothing could compromise the mask that Tifa Lockheart was wearing and would continue to wear so long as she felt less than herself. The mask of a hero grasping life and pursuing the future that she herself had helped better. No bitterness. No resentment. Just herself.

Hours later the mask nearly slipped.

Or perhaps it nearly _broke_.

Strain. Pressure. Intense irritation. Rufus Shinra.

She hadn't forgotten. Hadn't. She had just gotten caught up in other things and before she knew it a certain promise three days in the making was coming to fruition. And really, Tifa Lockheart was, more often than not an optimist. And as such she hoped that he would have gotten the hint at some point. Perhaps found someone else to shower his attention onto. 

As per usual, his appearance in her life was near-silent, and almost a surprise. It would have qualified as a real surprise had Tifa been the sort who was none too adept at reading small changes in atmosphere; in picking apart sounds that didn't belong.

Also there was the fact that her bar was clearing out. Patrons from Edge tended to respect her. They favored her drinks and her company and wished for her to stay in business. Willing. And thus when the time rolled around, depending on just how drunk they were, the crowd would leave. Occasionally a drunken brawl would ensue at some point. Maybe an argument would get out of hand or someone would have much too much, but generally things were calm.

Closing time rolled around on this esteemed day, like many of the others : without incident and leaving Tifa to handwash glasses that she didn't want to risk in the dishwasher. Quiet.

Peaceful.

And then she heard the clicking of footsteps entering her doorway.

The brunette didn't need to look up to know who it was. She had just enough information from the sound of his shoes hitting her hardwood floors to know what she needed. The sound wasn't muffled by any means – a cacophony that echoed slightly – a clicking. _Not_ a thunking. This meant one thing – her intruder was wearing shoes not all too common among her everyday fare. Sure she occasionally got businessmen, but generally those in her bar wore sneakers or boots. These shoes sounded high class.

Then there was the _way_ this person was walking.

Later on, it would be difficult for Tifa to entirely pinpoint exactly what it was that she picked apart from his gait. There was a sense of determination in his steps – of someone generally lacking patience. Of someone who got his way when he wanted it. His steps were forceful in a way. He was not light on his feet. At the same time he was moving at his own pace. The ambling pace of someone who ran his own life and damned if anyone else attempted to take the slightest bit of control.

She bit her lip slightly and shook her head, letting out a small chuckle that held no amusement. "I had hoped you would catch on and stop wasting our time, Mr. Shinra." She turned off the tap and dried her hands, raising her gaze up to see him standing in her bar, that ever-present smirk on his face.

She wanted nothing more than to wipe it clean off his face.

"I made a promise, _Miss_ Lockheart." He continued walking as he had before – almost ambling, almost with a sense of purpose. Something about the way he was moving, the way he was looking at her, so resembled that panther she remembered from years ago – that beast he had kept as a pet. "I wouldn't want to go back on it."

"Oh, no. Of course not," Tifa monotoned as she straightened a row of martini glasses. What would it take to get rid of him for good? She knew Cloud could have easily done away with the man but… that train of thought was crossing the line and she knew it. It was childish and less than even remotely feasible. No matter how obnoxious he was.

Beside that fact, Tifa could _more_ than handle herself. Especially against _Rufus._ She looked up at him through fallen bangs and saw him staring back, something all too smug and curious in his gaze. Then he smiled as if to say, "Aha! You know you want me." He was amused. Too amused.

"I trust you have had more than enough time to think upon my proposition." The amusement vanished in that moment, turning bored and slightly more business-like than it had been before. She partway wondered which side of this man was the _true_ side, then realized that this was Rufus Shinra and she just didn't care.

Would getting rid of him really be enough? She fought the urge to crack her knuckles and show her displeasure in a more physical manner. Her master would have been disappointed in her actions _both_ times she had encountered the man; would have told her that she was smarter, _better_ than that. That violence should only be used as a last resort. And that there were better ways to down an opponent.

Narrowing her eyes in contemplation, Tifa glanced over the blond once again. Rufus Shinra was domineering, she would give him that. But it wasn't a physical presence, really. He didn't demand attention in a frightening, overpowering sense, and yet he still demanded attention nonetheless. Maybe this further explained the layers upon layers of white and black he seemed to wear every day, regardless of the weather – something to make him look bigger. More complex.

Like a lion. Some big, flamboyant cat.

His power was an intellectual power… coupled with his will and that omnipresent arrogance. All of this made up for what the shotgun couldn't. Rufus Shinra commanded respect in a crowd, most likely, because he simply thought – no, _knew_ that he could.

His ego was one of his strongest facets. And it was also a weakness.

Rufus didn't have feelings for her. It was obvious. He had some sort of strange ulterior motive. He also must have thought himself that much smarter than Tifa. But Tifa wasn't stupid. And even if he, no doubt, had years of schooling over her basic levels of formal education, Tifa had a few tricks up her sleeve.

One doesn't work in a bar for that many years without learning a thing or two about human nature. About motives. About reading people. And thus Tifa came to this conclusion : Rufus Shinra had no feelings for her. He was interested in something else.

And she wanted to know what it was.

And she wanted to make sure he _never_ got it.

But before she made sure of that, she wanted to let him think, if even for a split second, that he _had_ won. Call it a lesson. He had it coming.

"Alright." Her voice rang through the silence but she somehow managed to belie no emotion in the simple one word response. It felt strange, though. Even after she had resigned herself to giving that answer, it still felt strange. It made her feel cheap to willingly give in like that; to know that in due time she would be dragged and toted around in public with the man. And it was sure to attract undo attention. People would begin to talk. There would be rumors. They were seen doing what _where_?

Even the thought of kissing him on the cheek almost made her stomach painfully clench. Him. Her.

…And what would Cloud think?

Would it bother him?

A smile spread across Tifa's face. A smile that should have warned Rufus that her plans were perhaps just as ill-intentioned as his. She turned around once more to stack a few cleaned and dried shot glasses. It wasn't that she thought Cloud would be jealous. She wouldn't really _want_ him to be jealous. That would be petty and he was her friend before anything else. Still… it would be good incite on where _exactly_ they stood.

Turning back, her bar now completely put together ready to be locked up for the night, Tifa met Rufus' gaze firmly. "You pick a time and place. You can have your little date."


	9. Mute Mask : 22

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**  
****.Mute Mask//022**

Rufus Shinra, as rich and powerful and well-known as he was, wasn't exactly the authority on dating.

This was not a well known fact.

Or perhaps it was and no one in the media dared speak of it. Of this single, strange and yet perfectly understandable truth. He wasn't the authority on dating, on wooing and romance, but that didn't mean that he didn't have the _opportunity._ Nor did that mean he didn't have the means. After all, the majority of his life had been spent with more than enough money and prestige to achieve that kind of attention.

He just had better things to attend to. And as he aged, moved out of his teens, this became even more apparent. There were plenty of things that were more important than dating. Even the term itself sounded juvenile and base. Even when he _was_ younger, pondering upon who was kissing whom where? Those issues paled in comparison to business proposals and world economics. Thinking in terms of _relationships_ sounded hokey and almost frightening if Rufus Shinra would or could admit that such a thing would _be_ frightening.

And perhaps this would have all come into play, jumped at him quick and stealthy like a guard hound. Something vaguely intimidating. If not for one key fact:

Rufus Shinra _wasn't really_ doing any of this.

He wasn't really laying himself bare. He wasn't really attempting to work on some hidden feelings for the woman. There were no emotions involved.

He was safe.

And so long as there wasn't anything attached to this little excursion – this plot of his, he could go through with it. It was just a magnificent orchestration. An exercise in seeing how far he had to go to win.

No, Rufus Shinra was _not_ even the slightest bit an authority on dating.

But enough money and resources funneled into a plan -- _any_ plan... That had to make a difference, right?

"Is this the famed helicopter you hopped in and out of when we first met?"

Her elbow was propped up on the space between the metal siding and the window, eyes hooded with a mixture of boredom and passivity. She had dressed to impress, that much was certain, clad in a black skirt like she usually was, but one that was slightly more flowing and feminine. She was dressed for a date, which she technically was _on_ but the look on her face made it clear that she wanted to be anywhere but in the helicopter with the president of Shinra.

Likewise, it was more than obviously Rufus was now zero for one – that is… if Rufus was a fan of sports metaphor. Which he wasn't. But in whatever way one could explain it properly, his first attempt to gain the martial artist's attention was a failure.

He wasn't underestimating her, though. He had known from the very beginning that Tifa Lockheart wouldn't be that easy to surprise. She was stubborn and unmoving. Resilient to these kind of things. Sure he had attempted, but all the while he kept in mind that there was at _most_ a ten percent chance that she would raise an eyebrow at a helicopter ride out to Costa del Sol.

"Feeling like a celebrity?" He paused a second, eyeing the cockpit. "Rude would know more than I."

The Turk had been silent while piloting the helicopter, and that was precisely why he was there in the first place. Silence. To bring Reno along on this date – even merely for transportation purposes was asking for disaster.

"I don't believe this is the same helicopter, Ms Lockheart." His voice was baritone as it always was, but with a bit more respect reflected in the way he spoke her name. Rufus had to wonder if the rumors were true about the stoic, silent Turk having feelings for her.

Or he would have wondered if something almost akin to a predatory smile hadn't flashed across her face.

"Oh. Is this perhaps the helicopter that carried Aerith Gainsborough away around when your company flattened a good portion of its population?"

It was an old tactic. She must have been growing weary of the situation, Rufus surmised. She had to be to be throwing Sector Seven, of all things in his face. "Different administration, my dear Lockheart." And that was, of course, his main defense against such an allegation. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees and looked her in the eyes, lips curled up in the slightest hint of a grin. He could have left it at that, but Rufus wasn't one for stepping down after only one point in his favor. Especially if he had the means to further his agenda. "If I were to take your attack on my character seriously I could just as easily bring up countless actions taken by Avalanche's predecessors."

"You're always this smug, aren't you?"

She was most definitely breaking down, just by being in the same enclosed space as him. Maybe this wasn't the kind of breaking down he would have hoped for but a reaction was still a reaction and he'd rather she be furious with him than not care. He leaned back more comfortably in the seat and watched the green and yellow of sand and grasslands come into focus as they drew closer to Costa. "I know enough about early Avalanche to make your head spin." He probably knew more than _she_ knew, but that might have taken it a bit too far and even though he wanted to get a rise out of her, he didn't want to push her over the edge quite so soon.

And she didn't seem too apt to respond to him either, most likely deep in thought. Rufus kind of liked it like that – knowing that he had made her think, rather than leaving her to her own devices and beliefs, as occasionally over-zealous and righteous as they were. It left him feeling like he already had a hold over her. Like he was making some impact. And he had to be, because if he knew Tifa Lockheart – which he really _didn't_ for all intents and purposes… but if he knew what she was planning, well. He had to guess that she would have at least put on an act to make it seem as if he hadn't bothered her in the slightest.

It was almost confusing, but Rufus was more than confident that he would eventually figure out to some degree what was going on in her head.

He had his work cut out for him.

Especially when they touched down on the helipad of the beachside town and silently made their way down the walkway toward one of the most renowned and expensive restaurants around – The Casita del Sol. The restaurant where Rufus could remember toasting his new presidency. She had to respond, somehow. Some slight expression. A widening of her eyes.

Nothing.

It was the difference between some fabulous dream of an easy victory and the harsh reality, but Rufus Shinra wasn't going to let it get to him, not in the slightest. He had time, enough. Their date had only really just begun and Rufus would persist until the very end.

Until then he had to pick at her – find some way to turn the tables ever so slightly.

He had almost won Cloud Strife's loyalty, after all. Winning a second date from Tifa Lockheart should have been a cinch. 


	10. Tranquilizer : 21

**What You Carry With You/What You Leave Behind**  
_A 30 piece project by Sweetest Oblivion_

**.Tranquilizer//021**

Tifa Lockheart had to wonder how Rufus Shinra could afford such a restaurant.

That wasn't to say that she was at all surprised or impressed, rather it was extravagant. Over the top, even. Then again, he expected this much. This was Rufus Shinra, the man who once owned everything. He grew up with this sort of life. Eating out at restaurants from which the cost of a mere plate most likely could feed a home full of orphans. The Casita del Sol was by no means the most expensive or fancy restaurant in Gaia, but it was up there.

Yet, the question was nagging.

He had lost everything, hadn't he? He'd at least come _close_ to losing everything. The company was gone. Although she doubted Shinra was down for the count, it _was_ gone. At least for the moment. And with it had to go all of his riches. Whatever was left over he would have to be putting toward the company and not strange endeavors in dating.

Tifa didn't respect him as a human being, but in terms of business, she wasn't blinded by distaste. He was a formidable man. He was capable, focused, and intelligent. In a manner of speaking.

The waiter seated them in the far back – a small, private balcony that was most likely the nicest view in all of Costa, then took their orders and scuttled away, something resembling nervousness in his steps. She rolled her eyes, attempting to hide an obvious smirk. Rufus was probably less than pleased that in such a restaurant she would opt for water.

This was almost fun.

Tifa blinked, trying to pretend that she hadn't just put the concept of this pseudo-date and the term "fun" together in the same thought. She had to be out of sorts. That was the only way to explain it. Either that or the intoxicating scent of gardenias and ocean breeze was getting to her. She eyed the potted plants and creeping vines, then the admittedly stunning view. That had to be it.

And then she turned an almost predatory smile on to the man seated across from her.

"So how exactly can you afford this restaurant?"

Rufus raised an eyebrow, curious as to where she was going with this and what she was driving at. It was almost comical how obviously quizzical the president looked at that moment, or at least it would have been comical had they not been in that situation. Tifa could feel herself losing that firm control that she had been attempting to cling to since he had picked her up. She knew this was starting to get to her, knew that she was in a mood that could only be described as baiting. It was almost as if she wanted him to slip up and say something incriminating. She wanted a good reason to be angry with him, beside past precedent.

"Despite popular opinion, Shinra isn't completely through."

Scratch that. It wasn't _almost_ as if she wanted him to slip up. She _did_ want him to. Because as it was she really had nothing to be particularly angry about. _Yet._ And that bothered her.

As it was she was practically on the edge of her seat waiting to see where _he_ was going with the previous statement. She was slightly taken aback though, she had to admit. Here Tifa had been expecting a smirk and a quip intended to set her off and instead she got a plain statement that belied nothing. It was best just to keep quiet for the moment, however. She _did_ want to see what he was driving at and opening her mouth might compromise whatever he was about to spew forth.

Damned politician.

Rufus tipped his water glass forward a little, staring at the contents with an almost bored, passive look. "I don't fault you for assuming that since Meteor I must be clinging on to the last scraps of Shinra Inc's legacy, but we _do_ have quite a few remaining investments and we _are_ still making money."

"How much money could you possibly be making _now_?"

He raised the glass of water to his lips and shot her an icy look that told her that he was way ahead of her in whatever game she was playing. "Enough to get by."

Not that Tifa had been expecting a multi-figure number… she just expected a little more substance to his answer. Rufus was being difficult again. Tifa exhaled, stewing in her thoughts and unsure what to do. Part of her didn't care what he was up to and the other part was devastatingly curious. She opened her mouth to speak and was promptly cut off by the waiter, returning with whatever had been sent their way, "compliments of the chef."

Tifa fought the urge to shoot a menacing glare at the already edgy waiter, unable to remember the point in the afternoon where she gave up her free will to choose a meal as _well_ as her precious time, but she let that little fact slide for the moment. She had other things to think about and as much as it pained her to admit – the plate was rather good. Some sort of Costan-Wutaian fusion with a name she could barely even halfway pronounce. It was seafood, that was all that mattered. And they must have both been hungry because an almost audible silence washed over the balcony. It was almost akin to peace.

She stabbed a piece of grilled fish with her fork, then thought better of the biteful and set the piece of silverware down with a small clang. It was eerie and at the same time it was downright confusing, this little get together. Even ignoring her qualms about sitting in the same mile radius of Rufus Shinra sans Premium Heart, the thought of sharing a meal like this with a complete stranger made no sense whatsoever. Why was she there? She had better things to do and she _knew_ that he did as well. Rufus wasn't trying to court her and he wasn't trying to befriend her. He always did things with a motive.

Always.

She was about to ask why they were there, but she thought better of it, picking up her fork again with the intention of spearing an asparagus stalk.

She hated the way she was feeling: uneasy and irritable. Tifa knew that just wasn't her and she was partway glad that no one close to was around to see her like that. She only had to worry about Marlene and Denzel picking up on her foul mood when she returned home and unlike her friends, they would most likely _not_ attempt to cheer her up, at least not in an overt, 'let's talk about it' sort of way. Maybe a colorful crayon drawing or a hastily put together peanut-butter sandwich. Sure things got lonely, but when she was down she was allowed to stay down.

Tucking back a lock of hair, she realized she was staring at… asparagus. Best to think about all of this later -- maybe whilst accompanied by a good book and a bubble bath. She was miles away from anyone who mattered, and in the company of one stunningly smug Rufus Shinra in a restaurant he shouldn't have been able to afford.

She stabbed the asparagus.

"So... How do you get this money, dare I ask. Where does it come from?" The words were said as conversationally as possible. She knew he had picked up on the darkening of her mood but she didn't want to continue being obvious about it.

Rufus seemed to chew thoughtfully, mulling his answer over in his head. "To not bring entirely too much politics into it, we have a fair bit invested in property as well Gold Saucer. Two industries that are doubtful to fail at this moment, especially given the times."

Silence again -- barely held silence, at that. Tifa shifted in her seat, attempting for once to keep her opinions to herself. It wasn't that she didn't want to cause a scene. If she had it her way she would have kicked him in disgust, yet she kept as calm as possible. The teachings of her master warned against acting on impulse – something she had been doing far, far too often. To anyone else, his words would have most likely triggered nothing, but to Tifa? She had seen the suffering that plagued the streets of Edge in some parts. She had sheltered Midgar's refugee orphans and the children left behind during the aftermath. And here…

"You take offense, to something." Rufus half-smirked and Tifa inwardly twitched. "I would most appreciate you explaining what has set you off this time." His words trailed off and he almost appeared weary. Persecuted.

"Pardon me, Mister Shinra." She took a sip of water, attempting to cool herself down a fraction and knowing full well that she must have let what she was thinking slip somehow. Some quirk of her lips or narrowing of her gaze. Rufus dealt with people all the time. He had to be well versed in reading them. "It's just… One cannot help but take offense to the notion of profiting off the suffering of others." That was the abridged version. The version where she didn't throw water in his face.

Tifa Lockheart was officially feeling cagey.

Rufus propped his chin on hand, elbow on the table in a surprisingly unprofessional sort of way. "I'm afraid you misconstrue."

"I see no other way of understanding it." She placed her palms on the table and looked him in the eyes, momentarily surprised with how honest he seemed. Honest and bored. "People are looking for places to live. They are looking for affordable energy. They are looking for an escape from their problems and you…"

"Your thinking is faulty."

Tifa gaped.

"You're angry. I get that, although I'm not entirely sure why you're picking any battle possible in order to crusade against me. You seemed much smarter than that. A pity." He stood up and made his way toward the edge of the balcony, staring off toward the ocean. "I cannot change the things I have done to wrong you, however I assure you that I bear no ill will in your direction, nor am I cackling villainously in the direction of those who suffer. I am not the monster that you perceive me to be." He stared her down with the first completely serious look she had seen him wear all day.

Tifa Lockheart was speechless. She felt vaguely chastised, but at the same time she almost felt like she had deserved it. She had been acting childish, no matter who she was acting out toward, and though it stung that she was being chastised by _Rufus Shinra_ she kept quiet.

He flicked back blond hair in slight exasperation, letting out a breath of air. Both of their plates weren't finished but it was clear that they weren't about to finish anytime soon. "I have work to get back to and I'm sure you have your own things to attend to, but I would appreciate you considering this: You are on good terms with the Turks. I would assume that you trust Reeve Tuesti with your life, someone whom I too am affiliated. And to compound matters, although I am not on friendly terms with Strife, he is not altogether distrustful toward me, either. It would stand to reason that _you_ would give me a chance."

Tifa took her purse in hand and rose from the seat, mind buzzing. Since the moment he had re entered her life that night at the Seventh Heaven, she had no problem speaking up against him. She had been able to one up him each and every time. Now she didn't know what to do.

Had Rufus Shinra just made sense?

As she followed him out of the restaurant and into the slowly setting sun, Tifa felt as if she had just… lost. It was a bitter feeling, but she knew she had brought it upon herself. She had been zealous. She deserved everything that he had just said.

The scent of gardenias had never been so sweet and strong and sickening as the moment of her first loss against Rufus Shinra.

But there had to be more to his words. Rufus was no saint, of this she was certain. Next time she would choose her strategy more carefully. She would play by his rules for the moment. He wanted a second chance? She would give him one. She knew that he would prove to be the same asshole he had been when she met him. The same egotistical, power hungry spoiled brat. She just had to give him the chance to let his true colors shine. And then, when she realized she had been right all along… wouldn't that be a victory?

* * *

A seemingly eternal forty-five minutes later, Rufus was dropping her off within sight of the front door to her bar. Tifa had been silent the trip back, feeling it best to keep to herself and think over her actions. With the helicopter blades slowing to a stop, Rufus opened the door in a manner most gentlemanly. Perhaps more so than realisticly possible. She hopped out and fixed him a look.

"You want a chance to redeem yourself in my eyes? Alright. You win this round." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited for some response to her admittance of defeat. This truly had become a game. "Prove to me you are no longer a burden to this planet. Surprise me." She almost quirked a smile his way.

"That is most surprising…" Rufus murmured with a smile and Tifa could barely hold back from rolling her eyes. "I assure you it has been a most interesting night. I take it, considering your challenge, we shall be meeting again?"

"I'll leave that to you, since this is all your idea. Impress me." She slung her purse over her shoulder, readying herself to walk away. "Goodnight, Rude. Goodnight Mr. Shinra."

She felt as if she was in the clear. That was, until a hand grab her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She barely kept from involuntarily punching Rufus in the face, her self-defense instincts kicking in. Instead Tifa gritted her teeth, turned slightly back and gave him a sidelong look.

Rufus was still smirking. "What? No kiss goodnight?"

And then, for the second time within a two week period, Tifa Lockheart swung around and punched Rufus Shinra in the face. She knew he was joking, or at least she hoped he was. It wouldn't be in his nature, as misanthropic as he usually seemed.

"I see you're off to a great start. Goodnight."

She headed up the stairs of the Seventh Heaven, thoughts solely on the promise of some quiet time to herself. The kids were most likely either asleep or too focused on television to make a ruckus. This day had been long and all too eventful.

And all too bizarre.

She was no closer to figuring what Shinra was up to. She was no closer to being rid of him, rather he was more honed in on her than before. Things were progressing, but to what conclusion?

Tifa stepped into the Seventh Heaven and closed the door behind her, her knuckles stinging vaguely from the effort. That punch had caught him by surprise and she had to admit that it was almost amusing. She would just have to wait and see. Wait… and see.


	11. Speed Drink : 20

**.Speed Drink//020**

"My face is numb."

Tseng's lack of a real reaction at the slight whine audible in the president's voice was not a surprise. In fact, had he even raised an eyebrow in anything but mockery, Rufus would have had cause for alarm. The Turk cared, sure. But he cared in his own way. That was the way things worked between them.

Also he was standing beside the coffee pot, watching. _Waiting._ It would be foolish to get in between this Turk and his coffee.

"Had I already not heard about Lockheart's negative answer to your little proposition I would almost think this scheme of yours was actually working." The sarcasm was more than obvious in his words, but still he tacked on a finishing blow. "Almost."

"I was curious how she would react. I didn't honestly want to kiss her."

"So, did she kick you or punch you?"

Rufus eyed his friend carefully and then settled at the table, propping an arm on the chair-back in a manner most unprofessional. Considering this was – or at least had once solely been, his home, he figured he should be at least afforded that luxury. Tseng hadn't bothered to fully turn to face him, so Rufus figured he should just answer the man's back. "You know those reports as well as I do, Tseng. Or have you forgotten?"

Tseng snorted, still staring down the coffee-maker. The man was usually so patient. He would have to be, after all. One didn't climb to the top through brute force and bravado alone. No, Tseng was a man of skill, precision, and timing. So to see him staring to intently at the inanimate object, itching to pounce whenever the drip seemed to stall a moment was amusing to say the least. And Rufus did not want to barge in on such a duel, of sorts.

He'd been meaning to replace the machine, but now with a smile creeping on his face, he thought better of such haste. 

"I make it my business to know these things, either friend or foe." Tseng grimaced and placed his mug on the counter, most likely giving up on the machine for a moment. He had to have finally realized that to move the carafe from it's spot prematurely would be folly. Drippy, scalding folly that he would undoubtedly have to eventually clean up. He turned to Rufus, an all too controlled calm settling on his face. "Of course had she _kicked_ you, you would probably not be in such good condition. I was merely humoring you."

"Humoring me?" Rufus seemed almost surprised, but it was clearly all a ruse. "Why Tseng. I never knew you were capable of…"

"Trying my patience…" the older man muttered under his breath.

"Who? Would you be addressing me or the coffee pot?" 

Tseng appeared thoughtful, "I'm not entirely sure, come to think of it. You're both noisy on occasion. Stubborn. And in all honesty you have the tendency to turn red and steamy when you're angry."

"No need to become poetic on _my_ count." Rufus pulled himself to his feet, halfway grimacing at the notion of being anything like that clunky piece of metal and plastic, grabbed his own mug and settled at his friend's side. This was most definitely the way things worked out between them, but perhaps they had just known each other for far too long. Tseng was a bodyguard, assassin, and – as strange as Rufus felt in admitting such a thing – a _confidante_ all rolled into one.

He made a good cup of coffee as well, but that was nothing new. The Mideelan roast however… Rufus hadn't had that particular blend in a while.

"I take it your little rendezvous with Lockheart ended decently, despite what the state of your face might imply."

Rufus smirked from behind the steamy porcelain mug, "I'm working on it. I suppose I should let her cool off a while before I contact her again."

"Ever the diplomat."

"That is, after all, what I do." And with that he was making his way across the room, smile on his face. Whether the smile had to do with the caffeine or his current situation, Tseng had no clue.

And really, neither did Rufus.

* * *

Hours later all of Rufus' planning would be thrown by the wayside, despite his wishes.

All it took was a simple phone call.

He had truly meant it, when he told Tseng that he wanted to give Lockheart time. Despite what his actions suggested, Rufus didn't want to completely throw Tifa over the edge. Needling her was immensely amusing, sure but he wanted to get to her and as such he had to give her some time to stew in her own thoughts. Let her settle a bit and then return when the time was ripe.

Rufus hung up the phone a bit too forcefully and stared at his desk. It wasn't so much who had called but rather what the call referenced that left the president scowling.

And he had been in such a good mood.

Reeve had contacted him. This was nothing new, considering their respective positions and the state of the planet as it was. What _was_ new was the request that he attend an WRO banquet, now that he was no longer entirely existing in shadows. 

He immediately remembered a small white envelope that had been quickly pushed aside with the pile of junk mail and vague death threats he usually received.

Rufus sighed and leaned back on his chair, eyesight trained on the phone. A party. Rufus Shinra did _not_ like parties. Never really had. They were noisy and fake and smacked all too much of pandering. Pandering for attention, for money, for selfish causes that he couldn't be bothered with… Women dressed in much too little, hanging over him all lips and perfume and hairspray. He blinked and repressed a shudder.

Unfortunately, no was not a viable answer.

Especially not now. Not now that everyone knew he was still alive and active in the world. Sure Gaian news and tabloids had yet to learn the truth about his involvement with WRO, but it was clear that Shinra was still running, though barely. This would be his first formal segue back into the public and he knew it would have to attend for publicity's sake.

He could feel a headache coming on.

Get togethers of this type really _weren't_ Rufus' thing. He could remember attending balls Shinra had put on during his father's presidency – standing aside sipping champagne and internally marking the hours until _he_ would be the one with all the glory. Vice President didn't hold the slightest bit of weight with his father in charge. It was just for show and he was just a placeholder of sorts. Rufus was the first to admit it. He was, for the most part, just as powerless as anyone else. His only advantage was by proximity.

He was a figurehead. A pretty, charismatic face that helped appeal to the masses.

This was especially evident during those grand, extravagant parties his father would approve with a well flourished signature and a nod. Rufus remembered even as a pre-teen vowing not to have such gaudy affairs during his own reign.

Of course, in the end he didn't get the choice either way.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes, however, Rufus knew he would have to give in. For the greater good of his name and the name of his company there was no way he could sit this one out. After all, the general sentiment of the public was tenuous at best. He didn't want to appear as if he had anything to hide. He was, after all, hoping to boost his popularity in any way he possibly could.

And that was precisely when his thoughts returned to the bartender and his currently sore cheek. So much for using time to his advantage. Rufus knew that he could safely bet _anything_ that Tifa Lockheart would make an appearance. He wouldn't put it past Cloud Strife to show up either. It would be a surprise if _anyone_ in their little gang didn't show up. Each of them played some role in helping restore Gaia. Each of them knew Reeve Tuesti. There was no doubt that they too were on the man's little VIP list, possibly getting phone calls at that very moment concerning the festivities.

And it was with that little revelation that the last remaining bits of Rufus Shinra's good mood plummeted into twitching headache.

But… Rufus opened his eyes a crack, staring up at the ceiling. This dinner was likely to be trying at best, but… it would be interesting to see what Tifa Lockheart looked like in formal attire.

And though he wasn't entirely sure how it happened or _why,_ that thought – that image that emerged from some strange nether-region of his mind made him smile.

Interesting, indeed.  



	12. Dazers : 19

**.Dazers//019**

Tifa Lockheart never considered Rufus Shinra invincible. She never imagined the young executive as some sort of unrivaled, untouchable force.

Never.

Not when she was young and supposedly more impressionable and the glossy magazines portrayed him haughty and devil-may-care. Not when she joined AVALANCHE and he became her enemy. Not when he stared her down and coldly proclaimed that he had no choice and she had to die.

No, Rufus Shinra was just a man. The media could inflate his ego as well as his image all they wanted, but in the end he could bleed just like the rest of them. He wasn't a god figure. The world could – and briefly _did_ move on without him. She knew the truth and would never concede, nor back down.

And maybe, she thought as she stood unwavering in the _Grand Junon_ ballroom… maybe that was what separated her from everyone else the President dealt with. 

His eyes had met her own; homing in and paying no regard to distance nor the distracting clacks of heels on marble and the swaying of curiously elaborate gowns. Their eyes had met, but she would not react. As it was, she was internally counting the seconds until he would make some remark about her outfit, a simple and slightly shimmery red gown. Considering how he had acted the last few times she had seen him, it was only a matter of minutes, really. She would have to brace herself. Why couldn't he have just _stayed _ in hiding? 

And then he was mere feet away, his customary half smirk ever present and Tifa found it difficult to stay quiet. "You look pompous as always, _Mr_. Shinra. Like a cat who thinks he's caught a mouse."

Rufus smiled and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server before cocking his head in thought. "Oh, I've always been more a cat-person. You, however…" He paused to sip his drink and Tifa couldn't help but cross her arms in front of her chest, tapping a manicured finger against her upper arm. She could think of two possible responses Rufus would fall back on. He would either play it cool and brush off her comment with a derisive quip of his own or he would say something vaguely _nice_ to her… which was always so much more disturbing and obnoxious.

"Going by what little I know of you personally, I would say you're more of a dog."

Tifa blinked. That was… _new._

Rufus continued to smile.

"…A… _Dog._" It had taken Tifa a moment to fully recover from the shock of what he had said – and another moment to realize what Rufus had meant. There was no way he was going to insult her like _that_. Knowing Rufus, had he been attempting to mock her, he wouldn't go so… junior high. No, he was attempting a compliment, attempted the 'nice' route. His methods, however… almost made her doubt his proficiency with the basics of human interaction, or rather his proficiency with the basics of interacting with the general populace.

Or maybe she was overthinking things.

"_Canis Familiaris._ A domesticated creature commonly traced back to the Nibel Wolf. A…" Rufus twitched a little, running his fingers through his hair and Tifa could have almost believed him surprised and a little embarrassed. _Ah…_ she thought to herself, trying her hardest not to smirk. _He's finally realized it…_

"Which… shouldn't be seen as an insult, mind you. The dog is commonly seen throughout literature and history as a noble creature. A loyal one." He cleared his throat and took a sip of the champagne.

She watched him finish off the drink and wondered – if this was Rufus Shinra sober, then what must he be like drunk? But the notion of Shinra tripping over words as he just had was almost too much for her to bear. The thought of him reeling and intoxicated was truly the stuff of unbelievable fiction.

"Always the charmer, Shinra." She chuckled softly and shook her head.

But this _was_ Rufus Shinra, after all. And though he had been almost vulnerable in a manner of speaking, he had quickly reverted to his old, unreadable demeanor. It was as if he hadn't slipped up seconds earlier and appeared human. "Which begs the question… Why aren't you chasing me? It's in your nature, after all."

Her eyes almost narrowed. Back to normal so very soon, of course, but she best not let it get to her. She opted to play along, but _not_ play right into whatever he was up to. "Come to think of it… I'm sure I've wanted to see you trapped in a tree at one point or another. Who knows? You might be right." And that was when Tifa turned on one heel and left in the general direction of the hors d'oeuvres. She could have sworn she spied Reeve somewhere by the cheese platter, looking more nervous than hungry, and some of her friends should have been around… somewhere.

Tifa needed some sane conversation.

* * *

Two hours later, mingling had grown tiresome.

Tifa Lockheart had prided herself on being a bit of a social butterfly in her day. As a general rule she enjoyed people – perhaps that was why she truly found happiness in her bar. The Seventh Heaven constantly put her in contact with people from all walks of life. Just the sound of people talking was fascinating and hearing the stories they would tell – whether they be true or obviously laden with lies… it was enough to keep her occupied and sated in her less than stellar days.

She could remember feeling this way even as a teenager, giving tours of her town. Back then she couldn't imagine visiting Mideel or the Northern Crater, so hearing of others' travels was the kind of bliss that she needed to get by in her small town.

So much had changed, but still… it was interesting to her. The human condition. People living their lives.

She truly did enjoy mingling, but still there always came a point when too much was too much and her senses felt overloaded. Thankfully the crowd had thinned a little after all the speeches. Reeve had seemed so hopeful… so full of life and in his element, despite his earlier bouts with anxiety. He wasn't a pro at taking charge, but he was getting better. Then again, few individuals that she could think of had been cultivated into such a lifestyle…

Rufus Shinra hadn't spoken, though.

It was… surprising.

Tifa passed a table of various champagnes and wines, barely giving the glasses a glance. She had always been adept at handling her liquor, and she had to admit that from what she had tried, The _Grand_ truly had an exquisite stock. What she really wanted, however, was _air._ Maybe some silence.

What she found beyond soft, barely transparent curtains, however… was…

She couldn't help but double take. Tifa had expected the small balcony to be vacant – or at least she had _hoped_ it would be so. A cool ocean breeze and a beautiful nighttime view before she set out back to Edge – that was what she wanted. Instead there sat the young president looking thoughtful to a frightening degree and sitting on a wrought iron chair. He was staring, but at what she wasn't sure. All she could surmise was that he hadn't noticed her presence.

"I was surprised you didn't speak tonight." Her words were neither curious nor accusatory. It was merely a statement.

Rufus jumped a little in his seat before turning and giving her a quizzical look. Tifa smirked and continued on her way, leaning against the balcony railing. "…Or would you prefer I bark at you?"

He shook his head, smile broadening. "Don't hold back on account of me… Although truthfully you are far more interesting when speaking a language I can understand."

"Interesting, now? Why Rufus Shinra! It's almost as if you're attempting to flirt with me."

"You can hardly contain yourself?"

"Something like that," she murmured before looking upward, toward constellations and moving clouds and darkness. Junon was far too bright at night and she could barely make out most of the stars that lingered within her memories. Nibelheim, small as it was, always had such a great view of the starry sky; rivaled only by Cosmo Canyon. Junon, however… well, it was better than _Midgar. _

The air was cool, though and she almost felt at peace.

Almost.

…There was no way she could block out the presence of the blond man who shared that small space with her at that moment. Sure he hadn't been nearly as insufferable as usual that night, but he was still there and it occurred to her that he was almost staring into her. For whatever reason. Tifa didn't much enjoy attempting to peek into his mind.

Silence.

"What are you thinking about?"

Tifa was unable to stifle the 'huh' that escaped her as she looked down into Rufus' unwavering gaze. She hadn't expected him to break the silence _quite_ like that. She had no doubts that he would, at some point, say something, but… "Don't tell me you're suddenly caring about the inner workings of my mind, now."

He smiled and flicked back ashen blond hair. "Humor me."

"Why is that any of your business?"

Rufus sat back silently and Tifa knew -- _knew_ that he was plotting something in that mind of his. Just the pause in itself sounded warning bells in the back of her head.

"How about a deal, then."

"A deal?"

"I do believe that's what I said." He was appeared far too comfortable for Tifa's tastes, lounging back, and she had to wonder what happened to that almost pensive look he had been wearing mere minutes before.

Still, that was the least of her worries. Something about making a deal with Rufus made Tifa's insides squirm. He was too cunning. _Far_ too cunning and Tifa knew that one misstep could lead her to a place she didn't want to even fathom. As it was she was still stuck with him thanks to the _last_ pseudo-deal they had struck.

But at the same time, Rufus was frightfully persistent when he wanted to be and Tifa had a gnawing feeling that reached deep into her gut that no matter what she said, he would persist until she threw him off the balcony or she gave in. Unfortunately the former was simply not an option.

She sighed.

"And what would this deal be?"

Something seemed to brighten on Rufus' face and Tifa had to fight back the look of utter distaste that threatened to bubble over. Oh, there was simply no getting out of this predicament.

"I'll let you ask me anything."

"And why would I want-- "

"I know you have to be curious about something Ask me anything. It can be big. It can be as trivial as my favorite food or my first kiss." Rufus shrugged.

"And?"

"Don't play dumb, Ms. Lockheart. In exchange you tell me what's on your mind."

She was somehow not surprised. Rufus was stubborn and childish at times, it seemed. Not immature. Tifa doubted that Rufus ever truly _had_ been immature in a traditional sense, even when he was younger. What it all came down to was that he had been denied something as simple as an explanation and he would do anything to win.

But now that she had already agreed to this idiotic deal of his, she had to think of _something._ Something good.

He was right, though. Tifa was more than a little curious when it came to Rufus Shinra, and while she didn't care enough to really pursue the truths behind his personality, the questions were still dormant.

And suddenly her mouth was moving much too fast for her brain to fully take over.

"What's your greatest regret?"

Rufus' brow furrowed a little. Had this been anyone else, Tifa would have sworn that he was thinking very carefully about his response – perhaps weighing several different regretful situations; rating and compartmentalizing. But this wasn't someone else and as time had wore on, Tifa found it easier and easier to predict his responses.

He would of course say something about the execution because it had to do with _her_ and for reasons that she wasn't entirely sure of he had started wooing her. Or at least attempting to do so. Either way the fixation was truly alarming, and--

"The Promised Land."

Her gaze shot up before she even realized she had been staring down at the wrought iron table that matched Rufus' seat.

"It was a foolish error. I should have been smarter than that."

"What?"

She didn't know what to say. For only a second, Tifa had been taken aback by the fact that he wasn't trying to impress her, or rather mock her _by_ impressing her.

Something told her what he was saying was the truth.

And then the moment was gone.

"I don't recall you getting a second question." He smirked, looking as composed as ever, in stark contrast to how Tifa felt at that moment – roughed up and almost confused. "Go on."

It took her a second to realize what he was motioning for. Her end of the bargain. And sure she had figured what she wanted to say, but all her logical planning seemed to have vanished with that one glimpse of a sincere Rufus Shinra.

"Nibelheim. It's really quite beautiful… this time of year." She didn't like the way her voice sounded. It lacked conviction and it didn't sound nearly as forceful as what she was used to when speaking with him.

"Are you sure it isn't just nostalgia?"

Tifa forced a wicked smile, despite the strange feeling that shot through her gut with his comment. Maybe. Maybe it was. Nibelheim as she knew it didn't even really exist anymore, though she wasn't keen to delve any deeper. "I… don't recall you getting a second question either." And then she was crossing the balcony and passing Rufus and heading toward the curtain clad sliding door.

"No doubt you expected me to say your public execution was my greatest regret."

Tifa didn't turn around. Didn't breath. What was he getting at?

"Don't worry. I fully expected you to mention a certain Cloud Strife as being on your mind, though I suppose he might be part and parcel with Nibelheim."

"What are you getting at?" She still felt flustered over where this conversation was going, even while impatience was slowly inching itself into her spectrum of emotions.

"I'm not entirely sure." He stood up and looked her over. "I suppose I may be trying to say that you think you know me a lot better than you truly do, however it is clear that the inverse is just as true."

"And?"

"I would very much enjoy getting to know you, Ms. Lockheart."

She rolled her eyes. So much for a sincere Rufus Shinra. 

He beat her to the balcony exit, and although Tifa had been so adamant about leaving, she now just felt the need to be away from the man. If he wanted to be the first to leave, so be it. She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off.

"So be ready six o clock, Thursday night. Oh, and before I go…" He nodded before flashing that smile once again. "Red is a nice color on you."

And then he was gone.

Tifa backed up a step and sat on the chair that Rufus had been occupying, shaking her head and trying not to notice that the seat was still warm from his body heat. What had just happened? She had no clue and part of her didn't want to know.

"I should have just asked him about his first kiss…" she muttered to herself as the Junon stars twinkled overhead.


	13. Loco Weed : 18

**.Loco Weed//18**

"What're you gonna do if she falls for you, boss?"

The words shook Rufus Shinra from his internal thoughts, thoughts meandering on Tifa Lockheart and her fighting spirit and how both combined seemed to almost bring a smile to his face. Albeit it was an amused smile, but a smile nonetheless.

_"I don't recall you getting a second question, either."_

He knew he had played his reaction calmly, taken it in as in he had almost expected such an outburst but… he had been surprised. He had been almost _proud_ Perhaps Lockheart was learning how to play the game. Maybe she really _had_ been paying attention this whole time. Either way it was becoming clear that she was smarter than he gave her credit for and she had more than proven herself in some small way. It would only serve to make their interactions a little more interesting.

And though Rufus didn't enjoy being overly honest with her; didn't feel altogether comfortable laying all his cards on the table, so to speak, he hadn't lied when he said he'd like to get to know her. There had to be more to Tifa Lockheart than what met the eye and what graced the pages of Shinra's typed up reports. Nibelheim survivor, terrorist, AVALANCHE. More to get to know. More that could only aid him in garnering the barmaid's trust.

His thoughts had been swirling this constant and repetitive pattern in the backseat of a company car with Reno at the helm. And just when he had decided that he was perhaps giving Tifa Lockheart a bit too much thought for the night, the Turk had decided to pull his thoughts right back onto subject.

_Lockheart, Lockheart, Lockheart…_

What was he going to do with her?

Rufus sat back, pressed into the leather upholstery of the backseat, hoping for some semblance of quietude; maybe some time to actually unwind after the mentally trying evening he had had. Crowds and gawkers. Those who had the gall to confront him with everything from hopeful questions about Shinra to derisive comments. Everything was either better or worse because of his existence.

Not that Rufus was surprised or anything.

Then there was Tifa Lockheart at the heart of it all. She was there throughout; even stepping into the confines of the balcony, a place where he had thought he could get away momentarily.

She had been paying attention, and to make things even more noteworthy to the president – they had been _civil._ For the most part.

Lockheart had to think that was eerie. Rufus partway did. And if things got even friendlier…

Rufus swallowed roughly and almost audibly. If things got even friendlier. What _were_ they going to do if things got even friendlier? 

Somehow he hadn't really thought of that. …Which wasn't to say that Rufus ever thought losing an option, rather… somewhere along the line he hadn't planned ahead. He had his goal, sure, but what came after attaining said goal was a blank.

Gaining Lockheart's trust. Wooing her. Getting her to – dare he really think of it, _love_ him. Or at least yearn for him. Hadn't that been the plan all along? But what to do with the girl when he actually got her affections, ah… that was the _real_ question, now wasn't it? Rufus sat back as far as he could, as if attempting to meld with the upholstery.

What was he going to do if Tifa Lockheart did, in fact, fall for him?

The thought was almost nauseating because, since Rufus stepped into her bar and back into her life he hadn't once given the question a thought. Sure it could be a while -- _more_ than a while before he actually succeeded, but Rufus had never prided himself on being haphazard about these kinds of things. About _any_ kinds of things. And yet here he had left enough loose ends to seem amateur at best. It left him raw, feeling distinctly idiotic and… It was almost scary.

And he hadn't yet answered Reno.

"What, boss? Don't tell me you didn't even consider actually winning…"

Rufus looked up, forcing a smirk and meeting Reno's eyes in the rearview mirror's reflection. "I've considered nothing but winning, Reno. But… It's merely business, really. Ms. Lockheart's company, that is."

"Ah. Publicity, then? Wouldn't be like you to put pleasure over business." Reno sounded all too amused.

"Isn't there room for both?"

"You sure you can have it both ways with her or are you on the fence?"

Rufus raised an eyebrow, growing weary of Reno's… personality that night. Where was Rude after a night like this? He had been hoping for some peace and quiet, not the constant raving badgering of his supposed second in command. "Dare I ask what you're getting at?"

Reno turned a corner and though Rufus couldn't _see_ it, he knew the man had to be grinning. "Ah. Oh the fence. Unsure about one or the other? I mean, if you get Lockheart and she makes you choose, which is it?"

"And? Grace me with your opinion, Reno."

"Me? Well, you've _looked_ at her boss, am I right? I'm of the opinion that dealings with Lockheart would be somewhat more interesting when lookin' from the pleasure aspect, you know?"

Rufus blinked in Reno's general direction, unable to fully articulate a response and feeling annoyingly uneasy at the idea of Lockheart and pleasure and pleasuring Lockheart and… Rufus opted for silence, staring out the window as Reno deftly pulled into the Shinra Compound.

And Reno stayed silent, or rather as silent as he _could_, stifling laughter as he stopped the engine.

"Stop that." Rufus stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut, staring at the redhead in expectation.

"What?" Reno grinned full on, now, either unable to contain himself or not bothering."

"Being so amused." 

"Me? Amused? At your love life? Nah." That sly look crossed the Turk's face as he turned on one heel and headed toward the entrance, Rufus following suit with notably less bounce in his step. "Though… when you kiss her, make sure not to bite her. Don't get carried away, eh?" He chuckled and swiped his keycard to be let into the mansion.

"Reno, why would _anyone_ do such a thing?" He leveled a glare as he pushed through the entranceway, letting the door shut behind and waiting for the comforting sound of his building's security system turning back on.

"Oh, no one means to.. Course, when you haven't had much practice accidents happen…"

And with that Reno was gone, exiting with the deft maneuverability and speed that only a Turk such as himself could possess. This, of course, left Rufus alone in the foyer, half-enraged and a little embarrassed, not only because of what Reno had said – What Reno had implied, but because the man had a point and Rufus hadn't even thought remotely in that direction.

He didn't know what to think, but he knew he couldn't back down.

He could never back down, no matter how uncomfortable the situation currently was feeling.

And with that conflicted thought he plopped down on the nearest solid mass – a coffee table of some sort and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Rufus Shinra, what _are_ you doing?" 


	14. Guard Source : 17

**.Guard Source****/17**

Tifa had to wonder just how she had gotten into this mess.

Then again, this was becoming a sentiment that wasn't new. Wasn't new in the slightest, much to her chagrin. And she had one sparkling individual to owe that little fact to…

Rufus Shinra stood several steps in front of her, stroking his chin thoughtfully and staring at Gold Saucer's glowing and colorful directory. Only about five minutes had passed since they had entered the main lobby entrance, but it felt like an eternity. Did anyone actually sit back and _contemplate_ where to visit first? Tifa wasn't sure, but she doubted it Then again, this was Rufus. Things were never the norm when it came to the man and now? Well… Now he almost seemed strangely serious, as if he were pouring over business plans or financial records and not deciding which Square he wanted to visit first on this little 'date' of theirs.

It was almost… comical.

And it didn't add up, no matter how much Tifa attempted to wrap her mind around the concept behind these strange actions. How could Rufus Shinra have _never_ visited the Gold Saucer? Sure, twenty-six year old Rufus with his economic proposals and seemingly strong aversion to fun in a normal sense would most likely not be a regular at the Happiest Place on Gaia, but he had to have been a child at _some_ point.

She tapped her food impatiently, placing her hands upon her hips and waiting. Then again, it occurred to Tifa that Rufus had probably never _been_ a child, at least not in the classic sense of the word. She couldn't imagine him _not_ being at least Vice President. It was tragic. Truly.

Still, considering how much his family had invested in the amusement park, it only made sense that he _would_ have visited the colorful, character laden halls. It was perfectly logical that he would ride the rides and have a questionable corndog – all from a business standpoint.

It would have at least made a decent photo-op.

She grimaced and shook her head before deciding that she should at least humor him and pretend that she cared which Square they ended up at first. If left to her own devices, she'd start thinking politics or considering Rufus Shinra's childhood a little _too_ in detail. If this was how their night was going to begin she knew she was in for an evening. She hadn't a clue exactly what _kind_ of evening it was going to amount to, but she wasn't about to get her hopes up. At least he brought her to Gold Saucer and not another ritzy restaurant where they would stare each other down; awkwardness eventually breeding a fight.

Not that this couldn't happen in 'Saucer, Tifa just felt that maybe she'd be able to tune out his _personality_ with a little more ease.

"Would that be all right with you?"

Tifa blinked, realizing that she had missed whatever Rufus had just asked. It couldn't have been _too_ important, though. Few things tended to be when you were exploring an overhyped amusement park. Even if your date was the one time president of the world...

Fifteen minutes later, Tifa Lockheart would realize just how wrong she could be.

"CONGRATULATIONS! You're our hundredth couple this week!"

He had led her to the Event Square, and it just so happened to be Enchantment Night at Gold Saucer.

Well, that was just peachy.

Tifa could feel herself involuntarily gritting her teeth as she recalled events that happened years earlier – back during the Meteor fiasco. Her and Cloud and this theme park's pitiful excuse for live entertainment. Event Square. She could remember vague moments of the performance. Something about a king and a dragon and… She narrowed her eyes on Rufus Shinra, who seemed almost pathetic, being pulled and prodded by park attendants as children watched from the sidelines. She wondered why he didn't protest, but immediately chalked it up to the crowd. Can't go looking like an antisocial, self-centered grouch when you're attempting to put on a good face in the public spectrum.

He seemed more apt to share that part of his personality with _her_, after all.

She grimaced.

Still, Rufus' own penchant for attempting good publicity, didn't mean that _she_ had to suck it up and play into this little game. And though she wasn't about to storm off stage, she knew her self-imposed limits. Tifa Lockheart, proud warrior and great heroic figure in some circles had pride, after all. She also knew full well where this little play might eventually end and the thought was almost nauseating.

She watched a park employee throw a cloak over the shoulders of the blond president and before handing him a wooden sword.

Almost nauseating? No. It went far beyond that. She _hadn't_ kissed Cloud here on that night years ago, but she knew for a fact that's what the park might have wanted, just as she knew given the chance, Rufus would spitefully go through with it.

She glared his way, from across the polished floor, underneath colored spotlights, before being pulled backstage. Glared a glare that said so much, but most of all stated, "Kiss the dragon. Kiss the king, if you must but come near me and you _will_ be neutered, I promise you."

"So you're here with the president, huh?"

"Pardon?" Tifa cocked her head to the side, trying her hardest not to appear overly irritated or impatient with the whole situation. A woman, blonde and overly perky, dressed in pink princess garb and a nametag that read 'Greta' was holding a box with sparkly tiaras. Tifa wasn't stupid. She knew – remembered this arrangement. She also wasn't coldhearted and understood that this Greta was merely doing her job. Best not to get her caught up in the drama that was unfolding.

Still…

"Yes." The response felt lacking, but at the same time, she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"So what is he like?"

Tifa winced internally. How to best answer this? How to answer this… It could go two ways. She could be vague about it or she could be brutally honest. And while part of her wanted so badly to be brutally honest. To tell this complete stranger that Rufus Shinra was…

"He's… very different from the Rufus Shinra that the media portrays." She half murmured. It was the only think that came to mind. There were so many feelings and thoughts that raced through her but at that moment, to put them into mere words… was more difficult than anything.

_Difficult. That's a good descriptor._

"Ah. So…"

The woman got a look on her face that spoke volumes and Tifa couldn't help but roll her eyes before grabbing a tiara. "It's not like that."

"Gotcha. Well. Like they said, play it any way you like it and we'll all just act around you!" She winked and Tifa immediately realized that her words only served to make the woman more sure of a true relationship behind the scenes.

And as she entered the wooden, brightly colored stage she realized that there was no way she could possibly make en entire audience of strangers think otherwise.

"Long, long ago… An evil shadow appeared over the peaceful kingdom of Galdia."

Tifa inwardly groaned. They hadn't changed the story at all, of course. Not that she was surprised , just.. she would have hoped a few years would have led to more interesting developments in the Event Square… Other than the tiara that she now wore awkwardly on her head. She wondered briefly if they would ever spring for actual outfits.

"Princess Rosa was just kidnapped by the Evil Dragon King, Valvados. What will become of her?"

She tried not to smirk a little. Valvados… Rufus. What was the difference, really?

"Just then, the legendary hero, Alfred, appears!"

Hah. Legendary hero.

And that was when Rufus Shinra actually made his entrance and Tifa found it entirely too hard to not laugh aloud. She was just offstage, waiting for her cue. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Somehow along the line she had forgotten that _he_ would be forced to act.

And judging from the uncomfortable look on his face as he tried a bit too hard not to trudge across the stage, wearing a blue cape and dragging a costume sword at his side, this was going to be _good_


	15. Hero Drink : 16

**.Hero Drink****/16**

Rufus had to wonder just how he had gotten himself into this mess.

"Long, long ago… An evil shadow appeared over the peaceful kingdom of Galdia."

He tried not to outwardly curse his decision to enter the Event Square. Did Tifa know that this was what occurred here? Bizarre stage acting? Something about the look on her face told him that she _did_, on some level, know what was going on. But at the same time she seemed surprised when they pulled her aside. Perhaps these things were random. Still…

"Princess Rosa was just kidnapped by the Evil Dragon King, Valvados. What will become of her?"

He winced. No backing out, now.

"Just then, the legendary hero, Alfred, appears!"

Rufus' head snapped up. That was his cue, or rather _Alfred's_ cue. He pulled himself awkwardly onstage, the unfamiliar weight of a fake sword at his side. He felt utterly idiotic, cape billowing behind him like some cartoon superhero, but it was at least some small modicum of relief knowing that plenty of other men had been forced into similar predicaments.

The knight twirled onstage, in obvious contrast to Rufus' own stagnant posture. "Oh… You must be the Legendary Hero, Alfred!"

Rufus blinked, mind racing. Speeches in front of large crowds were one thing, but this? He cleared his throat. "Yes. I have heard somewhere… in my travels through the kingdom. You have need for someone. Legendary. As myself. Legendary Hero, Alfred."

"I know in my soul that you can save Princess Rosa! Only you. So please… talk to the king!"

"But of course. Do take me to meet… him."

Rufus made a motion to follow the knight, but was stopped dead in his tracks when the king himself twirled to his side. What was with the actors in this stage play and _twirling_? It was quite… disconcerting.

"Oh, Legendary Hero, Alfred! You have come to save my beloved Rosa! On the peak of a dangerous mountain dwells the Evil Dragon King, Valvados who has kidnapped the princess. But you can't beat the Evil Dragon King now! Talk to the one who can help you!"

He fiddled with the hilt of the sword strapped to his side and waited. The king stared back. Silence reigned a moment. Had he missed something? Had the other actors missed something? He raised an eyebrow. "And that would be…"

A cough, somewhat polite and somewhat bored at the same time resounded from behind him and he couldn't help but jolt a little before turning back and seeing a wizard in green. If that could be called a wizard. Rufus had his doubts. "Him?" He blinked. "...I suppose, if you insist."

And why had he entered from the opposite side? It wasn't like Rufus could see him coming or anything…

"I am the great wizard Vormon! Tell me what you wish to know of."

Of all the stupid questions. Rufus pinched the bridge of his nose briefly before catching himself and instead running fingers through his hair. "Obviously that would be how to slay the, erm. Evil Dragon King. Valvados. Was that his name?"

"Oh! The weakness of the Evil Dragon King! It must be… It must be…"

" Go on."

"Yes, it must be… True love!"

Rufus' eyebrows furrowed a little. "True love."

"True love! It's the only force powerful enough to withstand the fangs of the Evil Dragon King, Valvados!"

_Then why am I dragging around his sword?_ Rufus thought before shaking his head a little. This story was getting stupider as the seconds went by. There had to be a law against this. He had to get it in the books. This was bordering on cruel and unusual.

"Oh, what is going to happen next! Oh, Legendary Hero… Look!"

It being the narrator this time, Rufus hoped, no… prayed that this story was at least hitting its climax. And then he saw a man in a dragon costume bounce onstage – thankfully not _twirling_, with a tiara-wearing Tifa Lockheart in its menacing, plastic clutches. She seemed just as awkward there as he did and he couldn't help but smile.

The dragon 'roared.' If that was what it could be called. And then it spoke.

"I am the Evil Dragon King, Valvados! I have not harmed the princess… I have been expecting… you!"

"You… speak."

"Of course he speaks. He's the almight king of all Evil Dragons, _Alfred_." Tifa smirked from her spot on the floor and Rufus couldn't help but think that if this Princess Rosa was anything like Tifa, she wouldn't need rescuing at all.

"Ah, you are a wise and powerful princess, _Rosa._ Perhaps it would be best for you to rescue yourself."

The dragon hopped in place. "Her mighty fists are no match for my powers. I am the great Evil Dragon King. Valvados."

"Ah."

"Graaaarrh. Here I come, Legendary Hero, Alfred!" The dragon hopped in place for added effect and Rufus couldn't help but think, 'now what?'

And that's when the wizard made it abundantly clear. "And now… Legendary Hero. This is what will happen to your beloved…"

The pause really made Rufus wonder. What would happen? Surely he didn't speak of what the Evil Dragon King would do to her. Something about this plot-hole laden story told him it was intended for the ten and under crowd and most normal parents frowned upon descriptions of decapitations and guttings in their children's stories...

"A kiss! Love's true power!"

Oh yeah. That.

He frowned.

Wait.

Tifa was staring at him again. No, staring wasn't the correct word. She was glaring. And that glare was some new level of frightening… it was a warning that struck him somewhere deep and primal. One that he knew he should heed. And part of him wanted so badly to ignore the warning. Part of him wanted to go forth and do something that would _really_ piss her off. It wasn't like she would retaliate there, in front of all those people. Would she?

But as he inched closer, he could feel himself lose his nerve. He could hear conversations with Tseng… Conversations with _Reno_ of all people about how powerful she could be and then he could hear the pounding of his pulse, all encompassing. He could feel the unified stare of the crowd at his back, and when he stared into the less than pleased face of Tifa Lockheart, he could see her mouthing four words that inexplicably spelled out, _I will end you._

And that's when he leaned in close; close enough to smell, to almost taste the air around her. Close enough to see the way her body tensed and her jaw clenched. "Run," he whispered before grabbing her hand and in one swift motion turning, breaking into a sprint, and half dragging her out and to the nearest portal to another Square.

He just hoped for something much less… theatrical.

* * *

What he got was a shack with a giant chocobo as decoration, a shoddy looking ride constructed with gears and wood, and a sharp twinge of pain that sent him nearly reeling onto concrete. Thankfully he could rest assured that while this ride looked less than safe, the railings around it were pretty stable. He took a breath. Perhaps _running_ from Enchantment Night wasn't the best of ideas. At least, he noticed, at some point the sword and cape had fallen off. Thankfully.

"Hmm. The gondola ride."

Rufus composed himself before turning around. Best not to allow her to see him like… this. Worse for wear. Worn out. "I take it you've been here as well."

She took a step, something unreadable passing over her features. Unreadable but not unnoticeable. "A few years ago…" She turned away, toward the park attendant and ordered two tickets, much to the surprise of Rufus. He himself had been about to suggest it, Some way to save face after effectively fleeing an uncomfortable situation. Also it would have afforded him some time to catch his bearings.

Either way it was a win-win situation and Rufus knew it, as he stepped gingerly onto the slightly swaying gondola.

It shook and shifted to life around them, pulling itself up farther and farther. He stretched out a little, sitting across from the brunette.

"I was about to kick you, on the stage."

A grin spread slowly across his face. "I know."

"I have to say… I'm a little surprised you didn't try anything. And here I thought you were a _complete_ idiot."

"Self preservation. It's a powerful thing." Rufus chose that moment to look out the window. Soon they would be high above Gold Saucer, he assumed.

"What's wrong with your leg?"

He stiffened a little. He thought he had hid it well enough, but apparently not. Still, he shrugged the question off, glazed over it with one of his own. "So you've been here before." He paused. "With Strife, I'd assume."

Tifa didn't answer. And while another man might just let it be, Rufus was not just another man.

"I'm going to guess Strife because you seem capable of recalling the most minute of details, but at the same time you seem less than pleased in doing so. And bemused."

"I'm not sure I understand what point you're trying to make."

"Not a point. Not at all." He waved his hand, dismissing whatever idea or claim she was formulating. "Just a mere… curiosity."

"The other day we played a game, remember?" Tifa blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and stared at him, waiting for some response. Rufus merely nodded. "Why don't we try it again. We'll stop when the ride is over."

"Be my guest." Rufus shrugged. The pain radiated upwards, a sore ache, not quite a nagging throb, but enough to push him out of his element. Part of him knew this wasn't going to bode well for the plan overall; that he was failing miserably when it came to this little date, but at the same time there was another, louder part of him that just wanted a bottle of painkillers.

Tifa stretched her arms overhead, smile spreading across her face like a predator who had just caught sight of something really tasty. "So what's wrong with your leg?"

Rufus rolled his eyes. "How surprising. I would have at least waited two turns."

"What can I say. Sometimes I have a one track mind." She crossed her legs.

"Piecing together shattered bones isn't exactly the exact science doctors would have you believe." He leaned an elbow on the wooden window, partly hoping there _would_ be a few splinters to get his mind off things. "You visited here with Strife, during Meteor, didn't you?"

"I thought you already knew the answer to that one. Yes." She leaned her own elbow upon the wooden windowsill, mirroring his motion and paused to consider a new question. "Did you actually think ruling with fear would work?"

"I still do, in a way. Why do you only wear one earring?"

"How did y--" Tifa seemed taken aback, almost as if she'd never been asked something so simple, but then immediately steeled herself. She'd have to be careful, he thought smugly. She almost asked a question she hadn't intended to. "The other one is with my mother. You think it would still _work_?"

He shook his head, knowing this would have set her off, and feeling like he was at least two-for-two. Ruling the world with fear and the earring business. Though, when it came to his previous answer, it was clear she wasn't understanding what he meant. "It would. That doesn't mean I plan on trying it again. Did Sephiroth kill her?"

"No. She died when I was younger." Something sad had flickered in her burgundy eyes, but just as quickly as it appeared it had been replaced with something much harder. "Why should I trust that you _won't_ try any of this again?"

"You probably shouldn't. But…"

"But what?"

He smiled and leaned fully against the wooden wall adjacent to the window, leg still stiffly laid out in front of him. "Self preservation, my dear Lockheart. I wouldn't want to meet my untimely end, again."

"Again."

He wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, but decided to treat it as the former. "I believe it's my turn. Why do you take care of orphans?"

She shot him a look. "I think the real question is – why don't you?"

"Be that as it may be, I don't recall asking that one."

"You shouldn't need a reason to help people, right?"

Something about the statement shook him. He knew that. Of _course_ he knew that, but at the same time… Rufus wasn't sure why that bothered him. He was doing enough, wasn't he? He was doing plenty. What could she possibly know about him; about how hard he had been working. The words weren't accusatory, but the sentiment behind them was. "You shouldn't need a reason. No one should, but… you do. People are inherently selfish, even when they don't mean to be." He paused, still feeling a little shaken. "What's your reason?"

"What--"

"From a psychological standpoint, I'd probably say it might stem from your mother, first of all…"

And that was when he noticed the way her fists twitched before they clenched – when she was _really_ angry. It was also about when he noticed that he wasn't shaking so much emotionally as the gondola itself was shaking.

It was _also_ when Tifa Lockheart stood up and threw the slightly swaying, shaking gondola off balance more than it already was. And before she got a chance to properly dispense with the anger that was growing; welling up, she found herself off balance and falling, something terrifying flashing mutedly on her face, before she landed half in Rufus' arms and half on his lap.

Before, of course, being dropped unceremoniously to the floor, with a hiss and a half-yelp of pain from Shinra's president. Rufus closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against wooden planks, and tried to even his breathing. That was phenomenally stupid. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to play hero at that moment, especially when the woman in question could take care of herself -- could probably right her center of balance on her own, but had instead fallen halfway into his blind spot and thus fell halfway onto his _leg_.

"Are you okay?"

Rufus turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised in nonchalant curiosity – anything to keep himself from noticeably letting her in on just how not okay he was feeling at that moment. Forcing a grin that did little but mask the gritting of teeth, he replied, "You didn't answer _my_ question."

She sighed, something about the slight slump of her shoulders letting him know that she was about to concede – if only a little. "Maybe I know what it's like to be alone – to not have people understand and to have no one to rely on but myself." Her gaze steadily dropped a little. "What did you mean when you said you didn't want to meet your untimely end _again_?"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to ignore the thumping therein and internally berating himself for bringing any of that up. "I choose to respectfully pass on that question."

"You can't--"

"New rule.

"That isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair."

"You're being childish. I answered plenty of--"

"Because I already died once. In a manner of speaking. So why do you hate Shinra so vehemently?"

"I don't. And that's impossible. Answer the damned question, Shinra."

Rufus leaned forward, lips pressed together in a firm line and nearly all the amusement wiped clean from his face. "It's not impossible. And you're lying. Cloud has worked with us – has worked _for_ me. Reeve and I are on good terms. Highwind is helping with the Air and Space Program. Kisaragi, Wallace… everyone else is being more than civil. You on the other hand…" The more he thought about it, the more Rufus realized that _that_ was perhaps reason number one that he was pursuing her to being with. "So why--"

"My whole _life_ was ruined because of your company."

There was that as well.

"So was mine, in a way." he mused before he was grabbed, forcefully, by the front of his collared shirt, and pulled forward, now eye-level with a less than pleased Tifa Lockheart.

"How can you say that with a straight face? Your company took everything I held dear away from me and you make jokes? Sephiroth. Nibelheim. Sector Seven. Aerith. And Cloud will never be the same--"

And maybe that was when he snapped a little, irritated both with her and with himself. She was being self-righteous again. And sure she had her grievances. And sure she had legitimate qualms with the company and with his family, but at the same time she had no clue. She had no clue what she was dealing with -- _Who_ she was dealing with. And that's when he started blurting things out, never moving his gaze away from her own fixed stare. "Really? Because I lost everything I ever _knew,_ after Meteor. Because all I've ever known _was_ this company. So congratulations. Now you're the hero. I work my ass off and I'm still the villain. I suppose I can't understand your level of loss, but I can certainly understand my own…"

"Well aren't _you_ a damned martyr," she growled, grip moving downward as she wrapped his tie around the grip of her hand, pulling him forward.

Rufus' eyes widened in a surprise that might have less to do with the fact that Tifa was, in fact yanking him even further into her personal space, and more to do with the half whimper he let out upon realizing the he _liked_ the action. That part of him wanted her to continue toying and pulling on the fabric. It was surreal, and yet there she was, teeth slightly bared and eyes shining with more fire than he had ever seen in her before. "And aren't _you_ a saint," he managed out, low and growled. This was the second time he had been this close to her in the night, and somehow the aura that surrounded her was incredibly different. It was heat and intensity and she almost seemed to smell differently.

And then he was being pulled even closer and he could feel her own rapid breath on his cheek and practically hear her pulse—or maybe it was his own.

"Yeah, well…" And before Rufus was entirely sure _what_ was going on, she was closing the gap herself in a clash of lips and tongue and teeth. He groaned, closing his eyes and cupping her jaw, then the back of her head with his hand; stroking hair that was surprisingly soft and silky. Or maybe it wasn't really all that surprising. Tifa, tough as she was, had always struck him as distinctly feminine.

And she tasted like jelly beans, his frantic mind realized. The taste was soft and childish; sweet, and quite in contrast with the intensity behind her kiss. No. This kiss had to be a flavor all its own. Something spicy and harsh and yet utterly irresistible. Something that made it hard for him to even realize that the ride itself had stopped moving.

So when she pulled away and said in a voice that was half distracted, half conflicted, "This doesn't change anything." Rufus wasn't surprised.

He didn't believe her, but he wasn't surprised.


	16. Eye Drops : 15

**Eye Drops**

"This doesn't change anything."

Tifa wasn't lying. Or at least she didn't think she was lying. This thing – that _kiss_, that fleeting moment where she seemed to have forgotten to let her brain do the walking and talking – it didn't change anything between them.

It couldn't.

Because that would demean everything she stood for. Everything she believed.

She had been insanely stupid. And now she was going to have to deal with the repercussions of her actions.

Rufus had had that big, stupid grin on his face. That big, stupid, smug look that was so Rufus Shinra it was nauseating. An 'I told you so' if she ever saw one. It made her nauseous. It made her want to go back in time and slap herself upside the head. It made…

Tifa paced the front of her downstairs landing, contemplating when her head would be clear enough to enter 7th Heaven again. She needed air – needed it before she had even gotten inside to begin with. Now she'd done it. Now he would _never leave her alone._ This situation would go on and on and.

At least he wasn't a bad kisser.

Tifa stopped in her tracks and made a point of pretending the thought had _not_ crossed her mind.

Part of her wondered if she hadn't been that bad a kisser either, though.

It had been… a while.

"You're out of you _mind_, Lockheart!" Tifa kicked a nearby rock and listened for the crunch of it hitting some dead underbrush. Then she resumed her pacing. And paced. Paced.

She had always hoped that things would work out in life. That they always moved toward the best, most ideal reality that the Planet could muster. But this – oh, this. Tifa wasn't sure anymore. She wasn't sure in the slightest. Could things ever right themselves? Could things ever become normal again now that she fell into his trap? Now that she did _that._ Did _that_ with _him_?

Maybe if she played along with it.

Maybe if she decided to pretend that everything was going to change.

But what if it went too far?

Tifa stopped in her tracks again, and stared up at the lit windows of her bar. Her fingers felt numb and the pit of her stomach went hollow. What if things really _did_ end up changing?

What if? What if? What if?

In the end, the ball wasn't even remotely in her court anymore. In the end, this wasn't up to her. She would have to see what _he_ decided to do about their situation.

Blowing a few wayward strands of hair out of her eyes, Tifa began her trek up the wooden planks toward her front door. Sitting out here wasn't getting her anywhere. It was only serving to confuse her.

Opening the door, Tifa tried to think sensible thoughts. Tried to think of things and people who she actually liked. Tried to think about the orphans. About her friends. About Cloud Strife and his smile.

But no matter how hard she struggled, she could only picture the near perfect blue of Rufus Shinra's eyes.

* * *

**Note**: I hate notes, don't you?

Short chapter to bridge together both arcs of this story. Never fear! I have two more chapters completed. They will be coming very soon.

Thank you for following this story, and I apologize for the hugely long spans of time between updates. :)


	17. Hourglass : 14

**Hourglass**

There was a part of Rufus Shinra that would always enjoy making a grand entrance. Standing out and being noticed. If he had to be the only person entering an almost empty bar at 1:55 in the morning, than so be it.

Another part of him didn't know what was getting into him, but that was overshadowed – albeit slightly, by the part of him that certainly knew he was being in character. He was making a grand entrance, after all. Sure there was only one woman who was part of his so-called captive audience, but it was grand, nonetheless.

"Bar's closing in five, so make it snappy."

Rufus smirked, standing in the doorway and watching her with a keen eye. Tifa was stacking glasses in a cupboard, most likely standing on her tippy-toes, from what he could gather; arms outstretched over her head and white tank-top rising to expose the small of her back. She didn't see him.

Didn't rule out whether she knew who was there, though. He removed his overcoat and hung it by the doorway, straightened his vest and… waited. He had two choices at that point. Either make his presence known, or see if she _did_ know it was him. Tifa was good at judging her environment, but it was late, so maybe she wasn't aware of who her final customer was for the night. As it was, Rufus had expected a little more bite to her words.

"I know it's you."

Oh.

He chuckled, brushed back a few strands of hair and made his way to the bar. Sauntered, really. Anything to make him feel more at ease; less awkward. The last time he had seen her…

Well, that was another story entirely.

"I'm not sure what you're planning…"

"Planning?" Rufus feigned shock.

"Planning. I told you that didn't change anything."

"Oh, that. And here I thought you wanted to talk business with me."

Tifa leaned against mahogany and tapped a nail against the polished wood. "Business? Well, this is a bar. Let's pretend you're here for that, shall we?" Her words were thoughtful. This was almost an improvement.

"Who said I was here for something else? Surprise me." Rufus attempted his most winning smile, knowing full well that she would pay it no mind, then added as an afterthought, "No tequila."

A look passed across the brunette's face – something mischievous with a hint of the playfully sinister. Rufus had to wonder exactly what _that_ was about, but he decided it might not be for the best.

Still, his imagination could kick in at any moment. Tifa _was_ pulling out a suspicious amount of bottles. Something yellow from the fridge. Rum… He pulled out a stool and settled himself. "So, I didn't get a chance to thank you for the lovely evening last week."

"Is that what we're calling it, now?" Tifa smirked, poured her concoction into a blender and then let it go without the slightest bit of warning.

Rufus inwardly winced, then waited for an opening. "What would you call it, then?"

She was silent, pouring blended liquid into two glasses. Rufus was sure she had many different responses to that little question. At least Tifa had a certain degree of humor present in her displeasure with him. Usually. He had to wonder if she was always like that or only when it came to a special few.

Maybe that was why he was a bit surprised when she slid the glass toward him and answered with a single word: "Interesting."

Rufus held the glass in hand, feeling the cold leeching warmth from his hand but barely registering the discomfort. "Pardon?"

"It was interesting."

Rufus wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but decided to let his confusion simmer a while. And this was why he didn't date. Nothing was ever simple… at least not from what _he_ had ever witnessed. Best to change the subject before he think entirely too hard upon the subject. "So dare I wonder why you're staring at me like you poisoned my drink?"

"Oh, Shinra. I'm drinking the same thing as you The last thing I want to do is die in your proximity, I assure you." She took a sip from her own for added effect. "This is just something I used to get in Costa… back when the lot of us were traveling."

"You had time for drinks while you were saving the world?" Rufus made a skeptical face, then took a sip. Pineapple. Rum. Coconut. _Ahh._

She shook her head. "Afterwards. Girl's night out. Go shopping. Have a nice dinner. Follow it up with foofy, fruity drinks…"

"The pina colada is a man's drink." He took another sip. "Surely you of all people should know that. Also you happen to make a rather good one. I applaud you." He smirked around his straw.

"I knew I should have made you a cosmopolitan."

"That might have gone to your advantage. I'm rather lukewarm about vodka."

"But not rum?"

"I like rum."

"I'll have to file that away."

Rufus tilted the glass toward himself, watching the slush follow suit. They still lapsed into silences, but there was something less… anxiety building about them.

That didn't mean he was altogether fond of it. "So last week."

Tifa placed her glass down and looked him straight in the eye. "I told you that – that _thing_… It didn't change anything."

"I know. But I don't believe you."

"Just because you don't believe in something, doesn't mean- "

"So why did you kiss me, anyway?" Rufus leaned back a little, crossing his arms in front of his chest and waiting. This would be good.

"I…" She blew a few strands of dark hair out of her face in frustration. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

"It just sort of happened, but everything is exactly the same."

"I see. Well." He breathed out. Breathed in. Collected his nerves and leaned forward until they were face to face. Near touching. This close she smelled of rum and pineapple and what may have been shampoo. This close her eyes were wide and light brown, flecked with a darker mahogany. "Maybe if we tried it again, it might help you sort things out?"

Tifa pushed back, turned around, and grabbed her glass, setting it in the sink. "I don't like to repeat my mistakes."

Rufus shook his head, laughing under his breath. Tifa truly was an enigma. "So it was a mistake."

"Yes."

"And you mean to tell me that you don't _want_ to make that same mistake again."

Silence.

Rufus laughed again, stood, and pushed in his stool. "Oh, this most certainly has changed everything, Miss Lockheart. But, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. How about you stop on by my estate when you figure things out." And then he was across the room, putting on his coat. "Goodnight."

It was only when he was on the other side of the door that he realized just how good a night it had been.


	18. Remedy : 13

**Remedy**

The next three days were a blur, and Tifa Lockheart would have to be an idiot to not understand why it felt like her head was immersed in cloudy water.

She couldn't stop thinking about it -- about _any_ of it.

It had been easy, at first. It had been so easy to chalk everything up to spur of the moment stupidity. She had come to terms with that -- had repeated the thoughts until there was nothing left to repeat. When he showed up at her bar, though... when they had that conversation, she admitted something that she knew she never wanted to admit at all.

It had been interesting.

And it had. It most definitely had. Tifa just thought she'd be able to leave it at that. Unfortunately...

It began with breakfast the morning after. Despite constant late nights, Tifa had always been a morning person, had always felt refreshed even after the longest, most tiring nights. Rufus' untimely visit the night before hadn't pushed back her self-imposed bedtime -- not nearly in the slightest, so she had only herself to blame when her mind wandered to everything and nothing in particular. The only thing that seemed able to snap Tifa to her senses was the wailing of a fire alarm overhead. This was of course followed by the distinct smell of burning pancakes, and the somewhat worried questions Marlene and Denzel had for her, because Tifa had been acting strange as of late and they had noticed.

Cereal was had for breakfast in the wake of _that_ disaster.

The next day, Tifa found herself with a less than pleased Yuffie Kisaragi.

"Geez, did you forget we were going out, today?"

Tifa blinked dumbly a moment, then felt her face color in embarrassment. She _had_ made plans with the girl, but...

Yuffie groaned, "You did, didn't you? Gawd... I had a feeling. You always call, like, a million times to make sure everything goes to plan." She strolled on in and plopped down on the nearest couch.

"I'm so sorry, Yuffie. I've... had a lot on my mind..." Tifa shut the door behind her and then sat opposite Yuffie, embarrassment slowly becoming something more akin to shame. She should have remembered. She shouldn't have been distracted by sense memory; the scent of his cologne and the softness of his hair. And, there she went again...

"Hey, hey, Gaia to Tifa!" Yuffie waved a hand dramatically in front of Tifa and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see what you mean. Y'seem pretty out of it right now... Anything you want to talk about?"

Tifa smiled and shook her head, offering Yuffie tea instead. She knew that the younger girl enjoyed these kinds of talks with her, enjoyed having another girl to talk to when politics and reconstruction and Godo got to be too much and she needed a break. They had almost a younger sister/older sister dynamic going on, but... Discussing the tangled web she had weaved with Rufus Shinra? That would have to wait a bit. She herself wasn't even sure where she stood with the man. There was no need to confuse _Yuffie_ of all people, especially if this turned out to be nothing and things actually went back to normal.

"I hope you're not going all Cid on me." Yuffie paused, grin on her face, and added, "Chai?"

"You got it."

They fell into simple, companionable conversation; talks about Wutai and the bar and the kids. It was easy for Tifa to handle and almost felt like normalcy. She had figured the other had just let the matter drop and that was to her liking. It made her afternoon much more managable since she still didn't know what, if anything, she was going to do.

So maybe that's why when Tifa walked Yuffie out the door, turned to leave and felt a hesitant tap on her shoulder, she was a bit surprised. Her surprise only grew when she noticed the serious look in Yuffie's usual carefree or joking eyes.

"Listen, Tifa. I'm sure whatever it is... You have a reason to not talk about it, but I'm with ya! Just try to tackle it headon! You always beat around the bush and let things eat at you... But... Oh, Gawd. Maybe I shouldn't have--"

Tifa felt her gaze move sidelong, but forced herself to look back at Yuffie. "No. Don't feel bad! You're right. I'll keep that in mind."

And she did.

On the third day, Tifa found herself once again standing at the gates of the Shinra compound, waiting for Rude to lead her in. So many things had changed since the last time she had stood there. It almost boggled her mind. She had been so... angry.

It should have concerned her more that anger wasn't forefront in her mind anymore. She just wasn't sure what _was_ forefront in her mind at that moment. She was _especially_ unsure when she was finally led to Rufus' home office and found him mulling over paperwork, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, and a phone wedged between his cheek and shoulder. She couldn't help but notice the way his furrowed brow seemed to soften slightly as he raised a finger toward her, gesturing a quick 'just a moment' before he turned his swivel chair a little and began fervently scribbling notes, and talking logistics that she wasn't even sure she _wanted_ to understand.

But why was she even noticing _any_ of this. Oh, this had become such a _mess_...

"Shouldn't take long."

Tifa nearly jumped, having momentarily forgotten that Rude was even there. "What makes you say that?"

"He's talking to Tuesti."

"Reeve?" Tifa knew they were on okay terms, but she hadn't learned anything about Rufus _working_ with Reeve. It seemed to her like Reeve didn't want anything to do with Shinra... at least from a business standpoint.

"They have an understanding... of sorts."

"I could always wait outs--"

"He should be finishing up about now. They don't exactly get chummy."

Tifa opened her mouth to question exactly what this understanding _was_, even though she knew that Rude wouldn't be at liberty to divulge anything like that, but she was cut off by the sound of a phone hanging up.

"You can stand down, Rude. If Ms Lockheart actually planned on killing me, I think she would have already tried something." His smile was unreadable and Tifa couldn't help remembering the last time she was here, and how easy it had been to pin him against the wall. How things had changed...

Rufus waited until Rude was gone, until the soft click of his door closing resounded. "So have you figured things out?"

Tifa crossed her arms in front of her chest, knowing the action would tip him off to her nervousness, but not caring. "No. I haven't." She waited for him to say something -- something condescending or sarcastic or confused... _anything_. Instead he raised an eyebrow as if waiting for an explanation. She opted for a curveball instead. "I'm wondering something."

"Hmm?"

"What exactly do _you_ want?"

"Pardon?" Tifa knew that Rufus was playing this cooler than he had to be actually feeling. She had grown a little more accustomed to him over time. Something in the way he shifted his weight and the way his stare hardened.

"You want _me_ to figure things out. You want _me_ to admit feelings that I seriously doubt exist. You want _me_ to fall for _you_ which is, by the way, still the most absurd thing I have _ever_ heard. What about you, huh? What do you get from all of this? Why are you even wasting your time when you obviously have so many important things to do?"

"...Ms Lockhea--"

"Don't _Ms Lockheart_ me! How about you answer my questions? How about _you_ figure things out for a change? Because it takes two -- two to do _that._ You weren't just on the receiving end. You were there, too, and... and..."

Rufus shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in what had to be abject confusion and frustration. "Are you asking me if I _liked_ it because I think--"

Tifa's eyes widened, her heart pounding, "No. No, I couldn't care _less_. This is about _you_. And I'm not a game, you know. People aren't games."

"I know, but I fail to see entirely what you're getting at."

"For the love of Shiva, how about you just give me some damned answers and then maybe I'll try to figure things out."

"Most people are a bore."

Tifa breathed. She couldn't think of an answer to that. She _knew_ Rufus was the kind of person to have that sort of outlook, but how to actually answer that simple statement was beyond her. So she waited.

"They're predictable. They scare easily. They live their simple lives and never question anything, never _do_ anything. They're easily placated. They believe what they want to believe." He fingered the surface of his desk thoughtfully. "You, however. You're a bit of an enigma, aren't you?"

"...You're trying to figure me out? Didn't I just say--"

"No, no. You're interesting. That's what I'm getting at. Didn't I already tell you that? I'd very much like to get to know you."

"I can see this was a waste of my time." Tifa turned on her heel, irritation only growing.

"I think so far... I like you best like this."

Tifa turned, then. It startled her... unnerved her as well, but mostly startled her. Something about his voice was laid bare, and when she looked him over, he seemed somewhat less sure of himself. His hands were hidden away in the pockets of his duster, and though his eyes were unwavering, they were less steely. "You like me when I'm angry?" She removed her hand from the doorknob and turned, looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"Not so much angry, more..." He raked his fingers through his hair and Tifa _knew_ he was uncomfortable. "I think you're more honest this way. I think once you've lost composure, you keep yourself less in check. I... I concede _that_. Happy?"

Tifa couldn't stop the grin that spread across her face. It wasn't mirth, not joy of any kind. She wasn't entirely sure what it _was_ that flooded through her. It was a problem she was going to have to really look into. Rufus seemed to have that kind of effect on her. She hadn't been expecting that kind of reaction out of him, but it was a suitable response. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Happy? Maybe a little..." A beat. "I kind of like _you_ like this... When you aren't one hundred percent sure of something... you almost seem like an actual human being... And maybe that's something."

Rufus swallowed and Tifa could almost swear that it was audible. "Something?"

She nodded and took a tentative step toward him. "Something."


End file.
